


Road Home (English)

by MMaglor



Series: Road Home Series [2]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Animal Transformation, Blood and Gore, Blood and Torture, Blood and Violence, Dark Magic, F/M, Free Orcs, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Memory Alteration, Memory Loss, Mentioned Caranthir, Mentioned Celegorm, Mentioned Curufin, Mind Control, Missing Persons, Modern Middle Earth, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Politics, Pretending to Be Gay, Rape Aftermath, Rape/Non-con Elements, Runes, Sexual Content, War of the Elves and Sauron
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2018-09-26 12:37:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 13
Words: 41,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9896762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MMaglor/pseuds/MMaglor
Summary: Middle-earth, 21st century.All the elves have departed to Aman since a long time and have been forgotten.In the United States, conflicts between protesters are increasing, supporting or decrying the inauguration of the new president of the country, meanwhile in Los Angeles, troublemakers seem to take advantage of the situation to attack the population. Organized in gangs, they attack people or residential areas, killing across the region. But while the LA police seem to be finally taking over them  and preventing the actions of these bands, other states begin to report the same phenomena and soon, new countries are affected by this movement which seems to spread at high speed despite the interventions of various security forces.





	1. INTRODUCTION, Back to port

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi !
> 
> It's the first time that I’m writing in English and dare to post XD.
> 
> This is a translation of my original FanFiction with the same name and i hope you will like it !
> 
> If something seems weird, please tell me !
> 
> Enjoy reading !
> 
> Big thanks to Escapedfate and friendofthatoneotherfriend for they will be beta reading my Fanfic from now on :) !

It was a beautiful day in January. The sky was deep blue and cloudless, the sun at its zenith. The port of Los Angeles, an immense urban complex full of colored containers, saw its banks of concrete and its steamer hulls caressed by calm waves, in total contrast with the effervescence on land. Again, carriers had entered the port area and now delivered their fragile but colossal merchandise. On land, a team of dedicated employees with long experience in the handling of the technologies required for docking, storage, and loading of cargo were waiting.

All along the docks, the only sounds clear above the din were metallic bangs, electronic sounds and the screams of orders. Sometimes, a seagull passed over the frenzied agitation and dropped one of its discordant croaks or landed on one of the many square blocks that transformed the huge platform that was the port into an interminable labyrinth. Vehicles or cars carrying heavy loads circulated in this mass of cubes with as much ease as if they were following a grounded circuit and security agents went from container to container, like pollinating bees on flowers, harvesting their information and verifications.

Trucks and other larger vehicles filled the roads both ways with a concert of clacks and high squeaks added a magnifying touch to the horrible ambient symbiosis which, even when out on the waves, was prolonged with horns, sailors’ screams and propellers starting and running at full throttle.

The place was thus immersed in the activity and panic of a banal day and routine missions, the environment – land and sea – more occupied by expanding the sprawling urban mass than by the conciliating presence of the ocean and the one of its threatened living beings. Its preoccupations went no further than what it was created to do: import and export at a phenomenal speed, with security and professionalism, all in the most terrible of agitations, the most powerful tingling and whirring.

So nothing changed that day. Ships continued to flow in and out of the port, goods to be disembarked and shipped, cars to be dropped off and delivered, teams to control and communicate, machines and men to scream, fervor to grow, as well as seagulls to croak, the sea to swing and the sun to shine.

Nothing ever happened out of the ordinary for any of the strained employees of this gigantic building site that remained in constant evolution. Nothing differed either for the chiefs, managers or controllers of tasks and missions. Nothing for infrastructures and city life nearby, nothing for the flora and fauna of the commercial area.

And because no one noticed a shortage of merchandise, reported bad deliveries of product or fraudulent merchandise, and none of the workers indicated a problem with the machines, nobody noticed that while workers began and ended their shifts, a strange carcass floated on the surface of the waves which gently brought it to the earth of the concrete. There was no one to see the unidentified object passing closer to the motor of a moving ship than security would advise or no one to witness the weak struggle that was still opposed to the currents by the prostrate, almost inert, form lying on the pieces of wood.


	2. A break to Lamill Coffee

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here come the next chapter !
> 
> Hope you like it !
> 
> Beta readers Escapedfate and friendofthatoneotherfriend :)

Adrian stirred his Black Onyx mug absent-mindedly. Sitting at his usual table near the window of the Lamill Coffee, he was staring at his laptop screen which had a page of the Los Angeles Times open in one window and La Opinión open in another.

The headlines were direct and shattering: “ “Hate does not make America great": Protesters gather in L.A. to decry President Trump”, “La “era Trump” comienza con un discurso con fuerte dosis nacionalista.”

The young man let out a small sigh and then pushed a brown lock that fell from his red headscarf out of his face with his hand. He then left the site and migrated to the L.A Weekly to find other hard-hitting titles such as: “Henry Rollins: I Hate to Break it to You, Trump's Your President.“ or “L.A. Comedians: Trump Is NOT Good for Comedy”. Scrolling without really seeing the articles, he rubbed his knuckles and then looked at the black frame of his Timex. Twelve-thirty. Turning his spoon once more in the likely cold cup of coffee which he suddenly no longer wanted, he readjusted his tie and grabbed his briefcase. He was preparing to leave was he saw, by the window, a man passing on a bicycle. The man turned out of sight, around towards the parking at the back of the building.

Adrian then left his seat and, without fail, the man appeared a few minutes later, fast and light in step. Making up the distance that still separated them, he came to meet his companion. The two young men then seized each other with their hands, clasped their forearms in a manly salute before finally closing in a hug, a prolonged second. A blonde woman holding a small notebook and wearing a red apron bearing the white inscription “Lamill Coffee” approached them to take their order.

“Hi Elly!” Welcomed the woman with good humor before continuing with the same enthusiasm. “As usual, right?”

“Yes, that's it Ana!” Confirmed the newcomer, turning to the young woman and smiling at her ease and confidence.

“Ok one Bliss Espresso moving!”

Elly then sat at the table that Adrian had occupied, the latter following him and taking his place in front of his computer as he laid a heavy black backpack on the table.

“So where were you?” Asked Adrian, half-annoyed and picking up the newspaper just to get something in his hands. “I've been waiting for you for half an hour!”

“Sorry, I went to borrow books from the library.” He said in reply.

Adrian raised an eyebrow.

“What?” Elly complained. “I just wanted to flip through them before joining you… I did not see the time pass.”

The brown man let out an amused grunt.

“That's all you!” He said, his eyes sparkling with malice. “But tell me, you remember of course that these books are more for students than for people like you…”

Adrian paused to see if his words had the desired effect on his friend, who was at this moment trying to pick at his nails, aloof but only in appearance.

“…Professors.” He finished trying to hold back the smile at his lips.

Now his friend looked up and gave him a pout before resuming messing with his impeccable nails.

“So what kept you this time…?” Adrian asked lightly, trying to change the subject. Elly's face lit up in response to the question and he grabbed his backpack, rummaging through it a moment before putting one book after the other on the table. Putting aside his newspaper, Adrian seized each volume before putting them all back in the pile and taking up the conversation again:

“History... Art... Geography... I don’t think you chose your profession well or at least your teachings!” He quipped.

“ Next time, then.” His friend replied with a sly smile, which triggered Adrian's amused laugh.

There were a few seconds of silence and Adrian's gaze landed on the still-lit screen of his laptop showing a large photo of a senior with chubby face, greedy eyes and white hair.

“This guy has really got something wrong with him I think…” he grumbled, staring at the picture of Donald Trump.

“ Hum…?” His friend raised his eyes from a book and looked questioningly at him.

In response, Adrian handed him the press of the day that Elly accepted after a puzzled frown. It did not take him more than a second to drop the magazine and start removing his old amber knit while talking to his friend.

“Of course he’s got something wrong with him,” He accused the brown-haired man with weariness. “Everybody has something wrong with him in your opinion! ... Seriously  _ Adrian _ , you should slow down! Take a —”

“ Here, Bliss Espresso with a lot of cream for you El!” Ana announced happily, reappearing near the two friends with a cup which she placed on the table.

“ Thank you Ann', it's just like you to spoil me like that!” Elly beamed at the young woman with a charming smile as Adrian feigned a sudden cough hidden behind his hand.

Ana blushed under the watchful eyes of the two friends and shook her head to free herself from her blank moment before turning to Adrian, her good humor renewed:

“Ad' do you want me to serve you a new Onyx? Yours must be cold.”

“ No, it's fine Ana, the bill will suffice.” Adrian replied with a smile more amiable than charming.

“ Okay!” Accepted Ana joyfully, already taking the credit card reader from a pocket of her apron —like a cowboy would draw his gun— and handing it to the brown man. “That will be thirty dollars and fifty cents.”

Adrian proceeded to pay and then returned the machine to the young woman. Elly leaned forward, rummaging in his pocket of his trousers, and slipped a ten dollar bill into an apron pocket of the waitress of the Lamill Coffee. When she turned to him, he gave her a wink and she answered him with a radiant smile of his own before walking away.

Some seconds passed and Adrian seemed to recall the thread of their conversation.

“ And what do you think I should do? He asked with some bitterness. Forget my job as a CEO?”

“ Yes, it could really do you good to think of something else than work for once!” Elly replied and then slipped the old pullover into the backpack, now in a black short-sleeved t-shirt, showing a skull with bone crossed and surrounded by blood stains.

“ Next time then…?” Repeated Adrian in a teasing tone.

Elly, letting out a half-exasperated sigh, shook his head slightly and turned away from his friend to search again in his bag. Under the silent attention of the young brown-haired man, he pulled out a small pocket mirror and ruffled his black hair, reaching to his shoulders while observing his reflection. Succinctly, he took a small tube of lipstick in his wallet, proceeding to spread out the black hue on his lips with precision.

Adrian, or "Ad", as was his nickname, saw him get out eyeliner, a small box of velvet and then eye shadow with the same colors as the lipstick to apply them one after the other until his friend's upper eyelids were completely opaque, his eyes surrounded by a halo of darkness and his nose adorned with a piercing.

“I will never understand why you're doing this…” Adrian said in a resigned voice.

“Because I _like_ _it_.” Explained Elly as if spooking to a small child. “And it’s in the fashion now, right?”

“ In the fashion…?” Repeated Adrian incredulously. “Since when did you really care about fashion?”

“ Always!” Replied Elly with vehemence. “And then I at least I'm in fashion, not like you and your suit ties!”

“ My suits are trendy!” Adrian defended himself, trying to contain a laugh.

“ Yes,” Confirmed the man with darkest hair. “When you have to go to a meeting but not  _ out _ .”

“ All right!” He conceded, amused before turning off his laptop and sliding it into his briefcase. “Do you agree to be seen with a has-been or do you prefer to ride a bike?”

“ I took a leave today,” he said smiling while putting his make-up products and books in the backpack, it's not for riding a bike, “I do enough of that in week!”

The two young men then got up from the table and after taking bags and newspapers, they left the Coffee Shop, but not before saluting the young woman who had served them.

“You parked the SUV in the parking lot, right?” Elly said once outside, to which Adrian nodded.

In the parking lot Elly took off the lock on his bicycle and the two friends then continued together to stop at the big black car. Opening the trunk, the brown-haired man and his companion placed the bike in the wide space and then closing it, opened the front doors.

“I do not understand why you keep this vehicle since you obviously don’t know how to drive it.” Elly complained, taking the passenger seat.

“ I will let you drive without commenting next time if you promise not to put your "in fashion" music in the car today.” Send back Adrian only half joking.

“Has been!” Elly replied, pretending to cross his arms and sulk.

Starting the car, the young man with the red scarf suppressed a laugh and, coming out of the parking lot, took cautiously the road.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, and see you in the next chapter !


	3. Encampment of steel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the next chapter !
> 
> Hope you like it and thank you for reading :) !
> 
> Beta readers Escapedfate and friendofthatoneotherfriend :)

 

The sea stretched all around, and despite its calm, the water was cold in the spring. Half lifted on the remaining wooden boards of his boat, he again extended the sore muscles of his legs. He was freezing and could not remember how long he had been caught in the middle of the ocean, but he felt that his strength gradually left him and fright make him more eager to reach the coast, which though in sight, still seemed to him too far away. Exhaling a pained groan, he felt exhaustion overcome him and knew that he couldn’t fight it anymore.

However he seem to regain consciousness at the next instant, and yet he was assailed by a terrible roar that seemed to come from under the surface of the water. Panicked, he noticed that an enormous metal structure – a gigantic and ugly boat – passed dangerously too close to him. He did not know how he managed to get away from the ship's trajectory, but he struggled regardless, fear bringing him new strength, and he managed to get away.

The waves then carried him a moment – maybe a few hours…? – light and icy as the ships arrived or leaved port but he stubbornly clung to his raft of fortune, fear tying his belly.

Barely conscious, he finally reached the bank and then, abandoning the floating wooden pieces, he rushed towards his salvation with forces that he no longer really possessed, nearly drowning and dying in the attempt. But he clung to the stone quay at arm's length and with the only force left in them, he managed to lift himself up and then drag himself on the ground after many failed attempts.

There he stood and whimpered softly, his arms outstretched and his hands flat, his cheek in contact with the rough ground and his body trembling. Thus, long moments passed and his spasms increased in frequency and intensity, he straightened up on his arms, gasped for long moments and got on his hands and knees. He could then really consider his surroundings.

How strange they were! The objects with multiple colors he had seen from afar proved to be square metal constructions without doors or windows. Lost, he sat on his legs and took notice of his environment with confusion: vast plains of gray-white ground ending on the sea in long docks for oversized ships and supporting more cubes of various colors.

The sea…

Tiredly, he changed his position to face the wide waters he had just left and an expression of relief but strangely also of deep burning pain took over his face. He remained for a long time contemplating it and trying to recover some strength, his arms clasping him as he trembled, completely frozen and shaken.

He finally grabbed his wet clothes and pressed them to remove the water that made them stick to his skin. Then, taking his curly hair into a tangled set, he also released the moisture. He stood up on unstable legs and with slow steps, began to walk the quays without aim. He noticed that the closer he approached from the structures, the more he perceived disturbing sounds as well as agitation, and, both troubled and intrigued, he converged towards the source of the noises. Approaching one of the colored shapes, he touched it with his fingers and confirmed that the material was indeed metal painted red. With it to support him, he advanced fearful and confused.

In front of him, this road of concrete bordered with shapes continued, like a labyrinth, extending as far as his sight allowed him to see. He did not understand. Was there nothing else on Earth now? Where were the Gray Havens…? Had they changed to the point of being unrecognizable…? And were those long forms of metal dwellings…? All those questions were crowding his mind and he was feeling hopeless again.

Suddenly he perceived hurried steps and at the prospect of being able to find someone, anyone who could help him, he began to run in that direction. He passed a few blocks, his eyes disturbed and his balance unsteady. A few more difficult steps and turning at the corner of a blue block, he finally saw the person he was looking for. Out of breath, he wanted to go to meet him but the man had his back at him, not seeing. Half-running, half staggering, he tried to catch up with him.

“ My Lord!” He called, desperate, the air leaving his lungs.

The man turned around violently and he could not contain a sigh of relief.

“ My Lord... please... could... tell me what... is this place?”  He gasped short of air. Where... are... Gray Havens…?

Taking a deep breath to calm the beating of his heart, he waited for the man's answer. It did not come. Incredulous, he tried to set his eyes on the man, and after a few moments he noticed that the he was staring at him wide-eyed, his mouth slightly open. At first confused, he finally understood. Without realizing it, he had spoken his birth language and the man had not understood it.

“ Hello my Lord... my name is Laurefindil... Could you please help me?” He continued calming down and changing the language with which he speak to the one facing him.

The man's eyes narrowed, giving way to suspicion, and he produced an inarticulate noise. It was then Laurefindil's turn to be caught off guard. After a few seconds spent thinking things out without understanding what he had heard, he decided to try to speak another language of his knowledge, doubting nevertheless that this man would know it:

“ Mae govannen Herdir Adan, im Glorfindel, tulu nin?” He tried uncertainly.

To this the man replied by a succession of sounds and other undetermined things. Narrowing his eyes and shaking his disheveled head, Laurefindil moistened his lips and tried to communicate in the last language he knew.

“ Naru, Amatthâni nimir, kinakh?” He tried again but it only triggered a new wave of furious words from the man.

He quickly took out a black object on a belt at the waist and if Laurefindil thought first that the man intended to hit him with it – already prepared to react instinctively – the latter just stretch his arm in front of him. Frozen and on his guard, Glorfindel carefully observed the thing pointed in his direction.

“ Please,” He said after a moment of silence in his native tongue and with growing despair. “help me…”

But it did not win him anything since the man in front of him throw out a flood of even more angry words. Laurefindil, more and more disturbed and distressed by the situation, stepped towards the man, stretching out his hand as much as a sign of friendly intentions as supplication. The next second a detonation was heard and covering his ears with pain and surprise a moment, Glorfindel finally opened his eyes and saw that the man had not moved: His object had emitted a scent of fire and smoke, the building of metal near Laurefindil being now pierced with a small net hole at mid-height. Glorfindel looked with horror at the solid material pierced and then his eyes came back to the man, now quite alert and awake. The man then spoke to him again. Glorfindel did not understand of course.

A second passed. Two… 

Laurefindil turned on his heels, his bare feet sliding on the ground, and a cry of surprise and rage sounded intelligible, followed by another explosion as he passed a corner. His steps were swift, his sight confused in the race, he bump against in the walls of the colored cubes, his balance uncertain. Other cries were repeated and he ran more forcefully, almost falling forward.

The weapon of his pursuer was activated again. Around him all bullets sparked and he escaped with a cry, covering his head. Terrorized, he continued to run and turned to another intersection, swaying to the side. His shoulder violently collided with one of the blocks and helped himself up frantically. The footsteps of the man were heard closer and closer. His heart was drumming in his chest and his breathing came in harsh out of his lungs as Glorfindel continued his flight and rushed aimlessly into the labyrinth, eluding this time the sources of sounds.

At a crossing, however, he heard people converging in his direction, their voices rising in an exchange that he did not understand and he then made himself as discreet as possible, putting himself against a wall and praying that the man armed near on these heels did not reappear at this moment. Fortunately, the men appearing in his vision moved away quickly, leaving him free again.

Glorfindel, thought himself safe then, but when hurried steps were heard, the memory of why he had fled in the first place came back to him. He started running again.

His footsteps led him into an alley this time. It was fenced with metal for several meters to the left and to the right but he did not worry, the path before him extending and his heart bumping like crazy in his chest and his ears. He continued on his way straight, hearing the man following and, desperate, he tried to distance himself from his aggressor, fearing the explosion of the weapon at any time. He found himself obliged to turn to his left when his path deviated to continue in this direction and as he did he stopped short, panting and frantic.

At fifty meters in front of him, the course ended in a dead end. Looking around, he saw no way out but one. Starting to run again, he stared at the wall in front of him and once within a few feet of it, leapt. His hands came into contact with the iron angle, he escaped a cry, his muscles already pushing beyond limits by his struggle with the waters, taken into their entrenchment now holding his body in suspension. Lifting himself slightly, he tried to swing to the left and then to the right, his fingers risking to lose their grip on the ledge at every second and risking falling increasing at each of his attempts to get and anchor, his feet slipping and flaking.

Laurefindil finally let go and falling to the ground, he strove to stand up. When he was on his feet however, he perceived the imminent arrival of the man. His footsteps sounded so close already, it was too late to turn back and he would not manage to hoist himself with his arms seeming to him weights dangling at his side. Panic-stricken, he looked frantically around him and time seemed to escape him at a dazzling speed, every second bringing him closer to death if he did nothing. That's when his eyes noticed a detail: He was surrounded by walls with only one way to get out, the same one which he had come by and where a man armed with deadly projectiles was waiting for him, yes, it was true, but one of its walls possessed what resembled a latch.

Going to the wall, Glorfindel confirmed that the cube was hollow and finally guessing the mechanism of the handle, he managed to open the door in a slight creak and slipped inside which he vaguely identified as empty.

The door creaked again when it closed. Laurefindil prayed that the noise would not be heard by the man following, and then, huddled on the ground, he heard the person he feared came to the place where he had been before. Holding his breath he strove to remain frozen and unmoving.

The man's steps had slowed when he had reached the spot and was now walking steadily but slowly. He was that close that Laurefindil could even perceive his rushing breath. With slowness, the person went through the impasse and then stood still. Exactly in front of the structure where Glorfindel was hiding. Laurefindil tensed and his head turned slightly backwards, his gaze fixed on the iron door as if he could see his pursuer through it.

Time seemed to lengthen into long interminable moments of expectation and fear. Then everything stopped suddenly. The moment just present in his memories now as the man moved away, fast and energetic.

Reliving a quivering breath, Glorfindel gently leaned on the cold door and closed his eyes. Slowly, he breathed. In, out, in, out... He opened his eyelids. Around him there was a silence only disturbed by the muffled sounds of the people who seemed to inhabit this encampment of metal. The cube in which he had hidden was not empty, as he had first thought, for there were stacked boxes made of a material that he did not recognize, the air was heavy and odorous, the particles of dust twirling by thousands, awakened by the shook of his breaths. His eyelids fluttered and a drop slid along his cheek.

It all came back to him then. Exhaustion, fear and despair during his crossing and his encounter with this man. He thought he could find help but had only encountered violence and hatred, having to struggle again to survive in a world he obviously no longer knew.

Other tears followed, warm with sadness, regret, and confusion. All... All those he loved... He could not find them... Did they manage to survive…?

He was trembling now and images flooded his mind. Each possibility more horrible than the last about what could have happened to his kin and loved ones. Sobbing with no restraint, he wore out his last strength and his eyes closed, the last tears slipping down his devastated face, now asleep.

 


	4. Wood and silence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter for you !
> 
> Enjoy reading !
> 
> Beta readers Escapedfate and friendofthatoneotherfriend :)

 

Elly yawned with all the discretion possible then, escaping an equally silent growl, he finished his morning ritual by stretching which made some old bones crack. Standing up lazily, he slowly walked down the corridor, took the metal stairs and found himself in the corridor connecting kitchen, dining room, living room, and other rooms of the house. Passing a hand through his hair, quickly putting it over his shoulders, he greeted a young woman with a sleepy smile and, returning his smile, she climbed the stairs he had just taken carrying a basket of freshly washed linen. Entering the kitchen, he spotted Adrian wearing an old white apron full of doubtful stains and his usual red scarf, this time covering his forehead to prevent his hair from falling or bothering him. Concentrated, he stirred a colorless mass in a frying pan quickly.

“ You kicked the cook out again…?” Elly grunted always in a bad mood in the morning.

“ Good morning sunshine, did you sleep well?” Adrian asked, turning to him with an amused glint before returning to the cooking.

Elly stuck out his tongue at him, even if he could not see it or perhaps  _ because _ he could not, then sat down heavily at the small kitchen table so that a few minutes later Adrian could finish the last pancake and bring the plate as well as two others, placing everything on the table.

“ I told you to stop doing this.” Elly reminded him, bored. He quickly grabbing a pancake as Adrian sat down. “It’s weekend, we should sit in front of the TV and do nothing more but you always manage to find us something to do!”

“ Fine, moody man!” Adrian said grumbling but also smiling. “If you were to choose today's program, would that prevent me from hearing you brood all day?”

“ Yes.”  Elly mumbled, his mouth full of pancake.

A silence followed his answer and it took the teacher a few seconds to look up at his companion and understand that he was waiting for an answer from him.

“ Television.”  He said almost intelligibly.

Adrian sighed, discouraged.

“ Okay, whatever.” He finally gave up.

They ate after that in a pleasant silence good for sleepy mornings. When they had finished, they took the dishes to the dishwasher and put in the fridge what remained of the pancakes. Elly leaned back on the sofa as Adrian quickly sat down, grabbing the remote control before his companion, with his outstretched arm, could reach it. Smiling and satisfied, he then pressed the button to turn on the flat screen and began to scroll over the hundreds of channels available.

“ Give me the zapper.” Elly asked, irritated after a few seconds of this.

“ No.”

“ But you only keep changing!” He complained, trying to steal the object to the brown haired man and failing.

“ I do not find anything interesting. There are just stupid programs or reality shows, it’s boring.”

“ You have no taste at all and you already know it. Give it to me!” Asked Elly again almost throwing himself on his friend to try to catch the remote which was still put out of his reach.

“ No!” Protested the businessman, laughing and trying to repel his invader. “Look, I found something! ”

At that, Elly stopped his attempts to retrieve the wanted command and turned to the screen. His face took a somber look then and, crossing his arms, he turned to Adrian, whose attention was already on the screen.

“ You're not gonna watch this, are you?” Elly asked pitifully but Adrian had his eyes on the TV and did not listen.

Elly sighed loudly hoping to trigger any reaction from the man next to him but nothing happened. As he approached his companion, he put his head on his knees, but the only thing he did was Adrian pulling out his hand to leave him.

“ They keep showing the same thing lately, don’t you think?”

Adrian produced an unconvincing "Hm."

“ I mean more than usual.” He added without leaving the screen that was distributing images after images. “Trump, gang attacks, Trump, the –”

_ “In the bay of San Francisco, a strange event happened last night. Indeed, an adventurous couple who had decided to indulge in nocturnal activities on the beach had had the fright of their lives: _

_ “We were having good time” said the man, who was obviously still very much affected by the events. “When this thing got on us! I saw it! It was enormous and covered with seaweed! We wanted to go but he... this thing started to follow us...! It seems green and fluorescent...! By chance, we were able to run to the car…” _

_ An investigation has been opened and we are now awaiting more information concerning the incident, such as the actual or imagined circumstances of which are still far from being elucidated. " _

Elly sighed and tiredly closed his eyes.

“ And now that...!” He complained before turning his head to look at the one who was at that moment his improvised cushion. “Could we not do anything else...?”

“ Did I hear what I heard?” Asked Adrian leaving the screen for the first time and raising an eyebrow in a funny way.

“ Maybe.” Half admitted the black haired man.

But turning back on the boring TV program, redirected his attention to the brown-haired man and gave him his best smile.

“Yes,”  He admitted then. “Can we go somewhere…?”

Adrian, not in the least affected by the bright smile, laughed amusedly and then concluded happily:

“ Very well, let’s go!” He said inwardly satisfied and did not bother to show it.

After a meticulous preparation of Elly who refused to go out before exchanging his worn pajamas for black leather clothes, his curls tangled by sleep for provocative spikes fixed with gel and his tired expression for a whitish and obscure skin of make-up, the two young men left their home and embarked in their black SUV.

After a few seconds of silence at the beginning of the road, Elly initiated the conversation:

“ Where do you want to go?” He asked, realizing that they had not chosen their destination.

“ We could... Go to San Bernardino!” His friend responded suddenly, struck by an idea and turning to Elly.

“ No!” He suddenly exclaimed becoming serious and closed.

Surprised by this reaction, Adrian looked away from the road for a moment and stared at the passenger who was keeping his attention in front of him. After a few moments, however, the brown haired man recovered :

“ It has been a long time since we last did it, it would be a good idea to –”

“ No !” He cut off again coldly before re-closing himself in silence.

A heavy quietude remained for a few seconds then Elly start to speak again unexpectedly, his tone elusive and defeated.

“ I do not want to go back there anymore…” he whispered not leaving his eyes of the glove compartment, a distant and anguished expression in his look. Everything is so... Silent…”

“ All right brother,” accepted Adrian after anxiously watching Elly motionless in the passenger seat and turning his attention back to the road. “We’ll go to town then.”

Nothing more was said in the car and radio, started by Adrian, soon screamed loudly it’s music with violent rhythms for the rest of the way to the center of Los Angeles.

***

“ Okay, what would you like to do now...?” Adrian asked Elly as they both came out of a shop in Robertson Boulevard with their arms full of bags.

“ We could drop the bags in the car and find a place to eat?” Proposed the one asked, his good mood and joy recovered. “I want an ice cream!”

“ I’m good for ice!” exclaimed the brown haired man relieved to finally be able to get rid of what was burdening him.

“ We can go to Cafe Angelino I like their Panna Cotta.”

“ Ha! You and Italian food!” chided Adrian, feigning exasperation.

“ What should I say about you and Chinese food or... your obsession with "Bio" products?”

“ Tie break...?” suggested Adrian smiling after a moment in surprised silence.

“ Until next time.” Elly answered what earned him elbowing in the shoulder.

Other words and laughs were exchanged as the two went to their vehicle, which was parked a few streets away, unloading all they had bought and returning to the restaurant they had chosen. When they entered, they then took place at a small table of the establishment which had a friendly and joyful atmosphere. Immediately, a waitress came to take their order and greet them warmly. Elly and Adrian were not really regulars, but they had come several times and were known to the restaurant.

After having asked for a Panna Cotta and a crème brulee, they resumed a lively conversation, interrupted only by the arrival of their desserts a few moments later, and their meal finished, they soon left the place, not without Elly moistening his lips provocatively to show his lingual piercing and smile at a man who had cast petty glances at him since their arrival.

They went out and the black-haired man was laughing heartily.

“ Look!” He exclaimed as he walked away from the restaurant with Adrian. “It seemed as though he had eaten something rancid!”

“ No, you overdo!” Scolded the brown man but not bothering in holding his own laughter.

“ What?” Elly was nearly dying with laughter. He was all red! I thought he was about to have a breakdown.

The two young men, laughing out loud, attracted a few confused looks, but they then reached the spot where their car was parked. Elly preparing to get in, was surprised to feel his phone vibrate and quickly pulled it out of his back pocket to check the screen.

“ It's Kate.” He announced a little surprise when redirecting his attention to Adrian on the other side of the car, not yet entered.

“ Answer her.” Suggested the brown-haired man with a shrug of his shoulders but not succeeding in hiding his amused smile from Elly who glared at him before turning around and walking away to speak with his student.

Adrian then decided to wait until the conversation ended and leaned back in the vehicle, watching people absent-mindedly. A few seconds passed before he was suddenly interrupted in his thinking.

“ Hir nín Elladan ...?” pronounced someone just a few steps away.

Adrian raised his head abruptly. Blinked and froze completely. Light footsteps were heard near him.

“ All right, she just – “ Elly began to never finish.

“ Hîr... Hîr nín Elrohir...?” Said again more confused and shocked the person now facing the two young men.

“ El…” Blunted Adrian's suddenly quivering voice. “Tell me I'm not dreaming…”

“ No, brother.” Affirmed Elly's trembling voice as well. “I... I see him too…”

Before them stood a man. A vagabond surely if one judged of his clothes and his bare feet but his long blond hair and blue eyes with piercing stare inspired more admiration than pity.

 


	5. And here time pass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is a new chapter, hope you like it !
> 
> Ok so i already said that the tags may be changed or added but I want to say that I will probably also add a character that I will put in tags.

 

Laurefindil blinked. The sun was already shining high through the window of the little room with its white walls. Turning aside, he stared at the small wooden chest that had been installed a short time ago.

It had been almost a week, by the counting of Men, that the owners of the house had graciously welcomed him.

Adrian and Elly, he had to remember. Adrian and Elly Reed.

...And there were so many questions left unanswered... Why these names...? And why this appearance which, especially in Lord Elrohir, was so... inappropriate...?

He sighed. Slowly he slipped of the bed and stood up. His feet bare on the floor, he went to the furniture he had seen before and opened the drawer.

Inside were various kinds of hats of different sizes, colors and shapes.

One of the only things Lord Elladan had told him: Hiding his ears, as well as his elven nature, to the Humans by always wearing something on his head and keeping his hair pulled forward. There was not really any answer as to why, but gloomily Glorfindel wondered if all Men had the same reaction as the one who had attacked him on the quays.

After pulling out a sort of black beret with the front extended like a visor, he put it down and opened the second drawer. There he took a tunic top and short underwear and long blue breeches. Dressing quickly, he then put on a pair of "trainers" shoes that belonged to Elladan and then left the room that seemed too cramped. Going downstairs, he went into the kitchen and opened the cold pantry.

Inside, there were all sorts of food that Laurefindil was sometimes unable to recognize, so he simply grabbed an apple in a drawer and a pitcher of fruit juice that the eldest twins had told him he was leaving there the day before. He placed all of it on the work surface sits standing near and then took a glass placed head down on a metal grid. Sitting down he began to eat slowly the fruit and drink the juice.

The room was large. Empty. Silent. He was aware of it with a tenfold lucidity.

The Lords Elladan and Elrohir also had many responsibilities under the names of Adrian and Elly and these often led them to stay away from their house, Lord Elladan explained to him.

Or at least it was the case for Elly who of the week had not been present even late in the evening. When he had asked the only twin present at a meal, he had replied that the week Lord Elrohir lived in a dwelling closer to his place of work. Elrond's son had stayed there and it had only taken a few more minutes to see him get away, pretending to have work and disappearing upstairs, not coming down again.

Glorfindel finished his improvised meal and put the glass of juice in a basin where he had seen several times the staff or Adrian cleaning the dishes and left the room. He went out of the house. The weather was radiant and at the entrance Glorfindel inhaled deeply the fresh air. A second later, he was then seized by a sudden cough and bent while holding his ribs. He still had this disagreeable sensation of irritation and suffocation. Once his reaction passed, he straightened up and walked around the house to take a plain stone path.

He walked quickly for a few moments and then sighed with satisfaction. In front of him stretched the stables. Walking the remaining distance, he got closer to the horses who neighed merrily at his approach. He caressed some of them and then went into one of the boxes.

For several hours, he took turns taking care of the five stallions of the stable, filling their manger or drinking troughs, brushing them, curing their hoofs, all with patience and contentment. There were of course people to do all these tasks but Glorfindel had become accustomed to come regularly to take care of the horses when he had discovered by chance the presence of stables in the area of the house.

Raising the fork once more, he again poured hay into one of the box and then raised his head for a few moments. In the distance, he could see towers rise to the sky and they reminded him in some ways of the cubic structures that he had seen on his first day in Middle-earth. Anxiously, he looked away and continued to spread the hay. There were noises, dangerous machineries and blinding lights in the place where the towers were. It was difficult to breathe in this city, he did not want to think about it.

His work now finished, he started to bring the horse back into his box but hesitated. Until now, he had been content to just take care of the animals and not mounting them because they did not belong to him but he had always wanted to. After a few seconds stroking the muzzle of the gray horse, he told himself that the owners would probably not be angry if he mounted the animal just this time and while remaining within the area of the house. With dexterity, he then positioned himself on the back of his new equine friend and the latter rubbed his hooves impatiently. Glorfindel gave him a caress, and the horse set out at a pace.

Horse and rider then proceeded to go to a small field of sand situated before the stables and there, Laurefindil made the animal go faster describing perfect circles on the ground. It was when they were roaming the flat space and when he gave the animal another caress, satisfied with its capacities, that Glorfindel saw a man coming at a run on the path he had himself taken before. With a puzzled frown he asked the horse to stop.

The man was shooting something at him as he approached, gesticulating dramatically. Having instinctively tried to understand what was said to him – and failing – Glorfindel shook his head from left to right to signify that he had not understood. The man made a short pose and then resumed with the same force and Laurefindil watched him pointing at him and the animal several times. After a few seconds Glorfindel went down hesitantly and looking at the man, a question in his eyes. The man gave a sigh and resumed his tirade, even more energetic.

Glorfindel stared at him without grasping any of his words and finally frowned. Why could not he catch that he _did not understand it_? Why were Humans so aggressive in those times?

Laurefindil inhaled deeply not caring about consequences, and his sight having blurred a fraction of second, cleared again. In front of him the man was now wide eyed and had a petrified expression but without giving him importance anymore, Glorfindel turned and took the way back to the mansion.

Arriving at the entrance he stopped for a moment not knowing what to do now that riding had been forbidden to him. He stepped into the kitchen for the sole reason of not standing still in the middle of the entrance and he then saw this strange thing which looked like a mirror if it was not for its dark color.

Slowly, he came to sit down on the couch and grabbed the long black object that had been left there. Examining it for a moment, he directed it towards the reflective surface and pressed a small red spot. A little time passed and the mirror seemed to suddenly come to life as if Glorfindel had used a stick of the Istari to animate it. Moving images passed before his eyes and letting the small black object beside him, Laurefindil observed.

After a frightful discovery of the strange flat and animated furniture, Lord Elladan had taught him to use this… entertainment box. He knew, therefore, that if he wanted the object to fulfill his function, he had to press the little red button and that the same was necessary to put an end to its motion. Adrian had also tried to explain that by pressing the other buttons with numbers, he could choose the type of images he wanted to see. But he was incapable of recognize what was number or letter, this alphabet being incomprehensible to him. In the end, he only knew to activate and deactivate the object.

On the surface, a woman spoke. She seemed to address a man in front of her and telling him he didn’t knew what. In the next picture, the woman appeared closer to Glorfindel and seemed to look at him, speaking as if he could guess the meaning of her words. Then the next image showed her again near the man.

Glorfindel sighed. This entertainment might have been very interesting if only he could understand even a word of what was said. Taking in hand the object with which he had activated the dark surface he pressed the red button and the images disappeared as they had come.

He stood up and left the room to go in the direction of the third floor and his room. He gently closed the door behind him and came to stand in the center of the room, his eyes vague.

Breathing hard, his gaze fell on his hands and he noticed that they were trembling violently. In fact, it was he who was trembling all over. Stiffly, he took long strides and sat quickly on the bed, elbows on his knees, eyes staring at an imaginary point on the ground.

His hands finally tightened on the blankets and he felt for a moment the desire to grab something to break it bare hands. But he forced himself to calm. He did not want to damage something that wasn’t his, and then he did not really have any object to break but the chest used as storage for clothes. It would also be of no help to him in his situation.

Passing a hand through his hair, he then took a quivering breath and quickly put again his hair over his shoulders, casting a nervous glance around him. Why had he had this reaction? There was nobody now, he was alone. Completely alone, as he had been all week. Of course, Lord Elladan returned every evening but he could barely see him because he always seemed to be overwhelmed by work or unavailable and the few times they were alone and could talk, Elrond's son put end very quickly to their exchanges and disappeared.

Glorfindel didn’t understand. When he had arrived in Middle-earth, he had been completely confused and disoriented before finding by chance the sons of Elrond who had welcomed and hosted him. But it had been days of this now and he had noticed the strange attitude of the twins towards him.

Lord Elrohir had been cheerful and eager as usual during the day they had spent together but he had also been evasive on certain subjects. His brother, had been very silent and removed as he had been the following days and Glorfindel did not know what to think of it.

The twins were the sons of the Lord to whom he had sworn an oath in Middle-earth and had also been his apprentices at Imladris. He had watched over them. _He came to like them_. Today, however, the cadet was totally absent and the elder cold and equally present.

Laurefindil did not know what to do. While the days went by, his kin, his family, was in terrible danger and he was powerless to help them in this unknown world. Several times in recent days, he had tried to ask Adrian for help, but each time the half-elf had evaded him before he could truly confide to him about what had happened.

Glorfindel again took a breath. Then release it. His breathing was quick, shallow. With his hands on his face, he continued to breathe in. He had to find a solution to save those he loved because he was their only chance to escape. They were alive, there was no other way.

 _They were alive_.

 


	6. Reasons to go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the next chapter and i took some time to modify and check it :) ...
> 
> Enjoy !
> 
> Some precision, Elvish (Sindarin) will be in italics and between two bars like that " | ".
> 
> If the names are not very clear:  
> Adrian: Elladan.  
> Elly: Elrohir.  
> Glorfindel: Laurefindil (Its true name in quenya, "Gloifindel" being a sindarin translation).
> 
> Elrondionath :Sindarin ans meaning "sons or Elrond".
> 
> It may be that I use both versions of a name so I prefer to indicate all of them so that there is no confusion.

 

Elly grabbed his backpack and opened the taxi door before going down and waving to the driver who left. Pulling his keys out of his pocket, he activated them so that the gate would open and close slowly after he entered, going down the path that led to his home. Along the way he walked slowly and tiredly, the bag thrown carelessly over his right shoulder.

Facing the front door, he took an inspiration and made his first steps in the house.

“I'm back!” He exclaimed, sparking enthusiasm as he could after an exhausting day.

But no one answered. Intrigued, he went into the living room and left his bag on the sofa. There was no one there, and the living room would be plunged into darkness, if it was not for its bay window that let in the dim light of the Californian nights. Adrian had told him that he would be home, when he had phoned him and asked if he wanted him to wait at the university so they could come back home together.

“...Adrian?” He called out leaving the dining-room, and stopping before the staircase.

Still no response. He was about to climb the steps when a light on his right attracted his attention. Turning his head, he noticed that at the bottom of the opposite corridor the door had remained open and a distant light was lit. Going in that direction, he passed the door at the end of the corridor and arrived in a small vestibule. From the rooms to which the latter led, only one let a stream of orange light pass through its swinging doors: the library. Putting his hand on the handle, Elly turn it.

Closed.

“Adrian…?” The man with the black hair again tried. “Brother…?”

Silence alone replied, and Elly losing patience tried to open with more force without succeeding.

“Elladan!” He shouted at the door after looking nervous and paranoid around him. “I know you're inside, open!”

He had barely said these words that the bolt on the door was heard without it opening yet, leaving him caught off guard and surprised, his hand still on the handle.

“Brother…?” Elly repeated, uncertain, half-opening and passing his head in.

Finally seeing Elladan in the middle of the room, his back at him, Elly opened the door completely and walked more surely towards his brother.

“Hey,” Elly said as he approached, “I know you're always busy and you're...  painting…?”

He stopped and look at his brother, who, in the midst of papers, accounts and briefcase, had placed an easel that he was facing, actually painting. His eyes lingered on the patterns of the canvas, and he suddenly felt short of air.

“Elladan…” He sighed as he sat down slowly beside his brother.

His attention had not turned away from his painting, but the brushes were now placed in a small goblet not far away.

“I did not know that…” Elrohir began before being quickly interrupted by Adrian's neutral voice.

“It's old…” He said, not turning toward the other. I never finished it.

“All right.” Elly said just to not let the sentence go unanswered.

Silence came back and Elladan went on with the brushes. Not knowing what to say, Elly said nothing and turned his gaze on the unfinished canvas.

“Why, Elrohir…?” Elly heard Adrian murmuring after a moment and he looked at him confused and anxious at the suddenly stifled voice. “Why Him and not Her…?”

“El, She... She made her choice…” Said Elrohir after swallowing, the lump in his throat.

“Yes!” Elladan retorted with virulence, putting the brushes in the glass with more force than necessary. “All this because of this... _this Mortal_!”

“Elladan!” Exclaimed Elrohir frowning, now shocked and incredulous. “He was our Brother!”

“Yes…” Eventually Adrian admits, his expression tensing under pain and withdrawing with a gesture his headscarf, he passes it on the face, as if to erase what emotions are there. “I know... I... I liked him too…”

The eldest of the twins broke off, then after a moment, bumping on his words, resumed in a tight voice:

“It’s... It's not fair that She cannot come back... If only things... If only She did not…”

Elrohir seized his brother's hand in silence when he broke off again, and after a little while Elladan took a little breath.

“She could be here with us today.” He finished darkly, his shoulders and head sagging, miserable.

“Or returned…” Elly added feeling his eyes fill with tears that he refuses to let go.

Feeling nearly unable to say more, Elladan nodded then took a another breath, squeezing his little brother's hand.

“Like Glorfindel…”

After that, the two twins remained silent, their eyes riveted on the canvas painted by the elder. In front of them, the painting reflected two elves who, although dressed differently, had a striking resemblance, both in their own image. One of them was sitting on one side of a stone bench and the other on the opposite side, with his head comfortably resting on the knees of the person in the center, a woman in pale muslin clothes and with ebony hair sliding gracefully on his shoulders. His blue eyes and white face were lighted with a smile of sincere joy.

“El…” Quietly murmured the brown-haired twin, after what seemed to him an eternity, parting then from his brother, whom he had unconsciously drawn nearer. “At least I know that both of us will make the same choice, and when we are ready we reunite find Mother and Father.”

Elrohir smiled slightly holding the gaze of his brother for a few seconds before quickly turning it away and looking on something else, the frame facing them.

“Elrohir…?” Tentatively asked the brown elf, after a moment noticing the lack of response from Elly.

But Elrohir no longer seemed to listen to him. His eyebrows frowned in reflection, he seemed not to see even the canvas.

“Elladan,” He said suddenly, turning to his twin, questioningly and surprising him a little, “why Glorfindel came back from Aman? True, are we not supposed to be unable – or very rarely – to leave when we have gone there...?”

At this question, Elladan looked at his brother in stuck awed.

“You did not ask him…?” Insisted Elrohir confused.

“I…” Adrian stammered, the confusion of his brother gaining him too.

Unanswered, the twins looked at each other, then stood up as one. They left the room, left behind the corridor empty at this late hour, climb the stairs with a quick and decided step to the second floor. When they arrived there, they stood before the door of Glorfindel, and Elrohir knock firmly three times.

“| _Lord Glorfindel?_ |” Elladan called after the two brothers had not looked at each other in confirmation, despite the nervousness that made them talk openly about Elvish. | _Lord Elladan and I wish to speak with you_. |

“| _An important subject._ |” Elrohir said before grimacing in concert with his brother while waiting for the answer.

“| _Enter!_ |” The voice of Glorfindel came from behind the door and they executed, penetrating into the room.

With little reverences, hand on heart and feeling their manners a little rusty, they advanced towards the fair-haired elf who rose from the bed where he had been seated and answered them with a little nod.

The three elves then faced and watched one other for a long moment. Seeing that the moment of silence prolonged and their mutual indecisions, Elladan decided to speak with caution :

“| _My brother_ _and I hope not to molest you, at such an hour._ |”

“| _Well I was probably preparing for sleep_ , _but it may well wait_. |” Glorfindel replied with a quick smile that did not reach his eyes.

“| _Have you already had your meal_? |” Wanted to know Elrohir a little surprised and instinctively looking at his watch.

At twelve o'clock it was already a little late to eat, but Elly, when he had been in the living room, had seen no cover left on the table.

“| _Yes, lightly._ |” Informed neutrally Glorfindel.

“| _Good._ |” Replied Elly, a little disconcerted.

Another heavy silence settled in discomfort. Discomfort to which the blonde elf ended by taking up the speech again, and adopting a light tone:

“| _Why do not you tell me the important reason why you came to see me at this late hour?_ |” He asked as he sat down on the bed and invited the twins to do the same.

Elladan, seeming to get out of his thoughts, did not tarry and followed his brother before sitting on the bed at his side and Elrohir quickly replied:

“| _Well,_ | He began, uncertain. |” _We would like to know the reasons for your presence here in Middle-earth._ |

“| _Not that we're not looking with joy at the fact of seeing you again after so much time…_ |” Elladan nervously added before averting his eyes, ashamed.

“| _But it seemed to us,_ | _Said_ Elrohir, casting a compassionate glance at his brother, and continuing embarrassed him too, | _that in Dôr Rodyn you would be at peace._ |

He had said it almost in a whisper, his eyes fleeing and Adrian grimacing at his side, but the Noldorin Elf silently watched them for a moment, seemingly in a somber mood and finally making a decision and saying,

“| _My Lords, it has been several days since I have attempted to inform you, although uneasiness or lack of time has prevented me from doing so._ |” He admitted sincerely. “| _I need your help and pray that you will bring it to me._ |”

─ “| _Our help?_ |” Elladan repeated, looking anxiously at his brother, who returned it to him. “| _How can we help you?_ |”

To this Laurefindil was silent. Looking away, his eyes came to look at the ground, his shoulders sagging, a hand mechanically smoothing the folds of his shirt. After long moments of internal debate in total silence, he raised his head and stared at the twins with intensity.

“| _My family is in grave danger._ |” He admitted without leaving their eyes although his hands were shaking intermittently, “| _and I come today to ask you to help me if you will, because I cannot act alone in this world which is unknown to me._ |”

If before the silence had been embarrassed, it was frozen now, almost palpable. The expression of the twins changed in a fraction of seconds, Elladan in surprise and worry when Elrohir displayed concern and compassion but both also felt shame and regret invading them.

“| _We will do our utmost to help you my Lord._ |” Elly said slowly, struggling to ignore his knotted stomach and looking at Adrian for confirmation.

“| _You have our word._ |” Elladan continued seriously, trying to look Glorfindel in the eyes despite the remorse he felt for the one who had long ago been their trainer.

Silence followed their declaration, but in front of them, Glorfindel's eyes began to shine with a damp quality, and after swallowing, he spoke, his voice shaking slightly.

“| _I thank you Elrondionnath..._ |” He said his voice hoarse. “| _And yet I am a bearer of bad omens, since this is not the only serious news I should inform you._ |”

Without really thinking about it, Elrohir, seated next to Glorfindel, held out his hand and took his friend's hand to squeeze it.

“| _Lord Glorfindel, you are no longer alone now, we will help you!_ |”

Surprised, Glorfindel remained mute and Elladan stared at his brother with round eyes. Embarrassed, Elrohir wanted to cancel his gesture, but the fingers of the blonde elf in front of him then closed on his, a slight smile curving his lips, his head bowing gracefully with gratitude. Elly matched it feeling touched but also a bit uneasy and when Glorfindel looked down thoughtfully, Elrohir waited, their hands still holding.

Finally, breathing deep Laurefindil announced in one go:

“| _If I now ask for help and shelter among you my Lords, it is because Morgoth threatens all the free peoples again._ |”

There was a moment of chocked silence and incomprehension in which Elrohir instinctively took his hand back. Then the faces of Adrian and his lost their colors, turning as white as linen. Adrian, eyes wide open, opened and closed his mouth several times without releasing a single word.

“| _But... But Mor – He's prisoner, confined forever in the Everlasting Darkness...!_ |” He finally stammered as pale as before.

“| “ _At the End of Time, Morgoth will escape the vigilance of the Guardians of the Night Gates and return to Ea to destroy the Sun and the Moon, causing the anger of all...”_ |” Suddenly murmured Elly before Glorfindel could answer and seemed to speak to himself more than to the other two elves who then fixed their attention on him.

Under their gaze, alarmed from Elladan and grave from Glorfindel, Elly spoke again. His voice was a bit louder but trembling:

“| _It's not the End of Time, is it?_ |” He stuttered his anguished eyes fixed on the blonde elf. | _Isn’t it Lord Glorfindel?_ |

“| _No!_ |” Replied the latter, destabilized by the question and terrified by the idea that it formed in his mind, which already try to contain the panic that clung to him like a second skin for too long. | _I do not think it is... Dare not to think about it_... |

This response, more than unsure, put the three elves into fear and anguish, in a silence deafening to the imagination.

“| _Wait...!_ |” Elly broke suddenly seeming to find his voice again. “| _How does this relate to your return Lord Glorfindel...?_ |”

Laurefindil sagged even more on himself if it were possible, but in a calmer voice, replied:

"| _Alas,_ |” He said, his jaw clenched, “| _Morgoth has set foot in Aman... He now controls it._ |”

"| _But...!_ |” Protested Elrohir pale as death herself. “| _The Balan does not..._ |”

The quick move of the Noldo's head and his pained expression caused him to pause.

“| _No more Bright Spirit is present on the Immortal Lands._ |” Said Laurefindil darkly.

“| _No more...?_ |” Repeated Adrian, having remained silent so overwhelmed as he was by what was said and is voice was so low that it was barely more than a whisper.

"| _Balan and Maiar have disappeared._ |” Confirmed Glorfindel casting an apologizing look at Elladan. “| _This is the only thing I can be certain of._ |”

Again, his response provoked silence and terror was read on the faces of the two brothers. With open mouth and wide-eyed eyes, they watched him simply transfixed. Laurefindil, with bitterness and regret, decided to go on, not knowing if he would find again courage to tell all that was need if he delayed it.

“| _At this very moment, all our people are in danger..._ |” He continued his voice starting to tremble again. “| _We ran... The earth trembled and cracked in gaping holes... There were screams... So much cries..._ |”

Glorfindel, taking his head in his hands, fell silent while his whole body was now agitated by spasms, of panic and rage, of sobs which he still contained, barely.

“| _I... I sought them out... but... They seemed to have vanished like many of us and..._ |”

At this point he stopped and did not resume. He kept his face in his hands and his breathing came in a rush. Slowly, Elrohir came out of his torpor and put a hesitant hand on the Noldo's shoulder.

“| _Our Father... Our parents...?_ |” Elly asked, trying to make his gesture comforting but unable to avoid the clenching of his fingers, his whole body pressed under a new fear that threatened to make him mentally lose his footing.

Laurefindil's trembling hands froze. Gently, they discovered him, and looking up at the twin, he gave such an expression of remorse, tearing and desolation before shaking his head that Elly could easily guess the answer.

His ears began to buzz and all around him took a distant quality. He felt himself floating, as elsewhere, and it was Elladan's fist clasped around his arm enough to provoke pain that brought him back to reality and prevented him from losing consciousness. Elly knew that Laurefindil had sought Elrond and Celebrian, their parents, and that he had not found them. He did not resent him, did not feel any resentment, but it did not diminish the terror that devoured his entrails by thinking about what might have happened to them.

Fixing his attention on his brother, his sight cleared up again and he saw him clinging to his arm like a drowned to a lifebuoy. Ignoring his numbing arm, Elrohir clasped his other hand on the clenched fist and kept his eyes anchored on Elladan, who was gazing at Glorfindel. Long moments passed, no one speaking out of fear or shame, then it was surprisingly Elladan's who broke the silence:

“| _We are going to help you Lord Glorfindel, I promise you._ |” He pronounced almost detached if it had not been for the determination that could be seen in his eyes while Elly nodded having made the same decision. | _We will seek and find your loved ones as well as those of our people who have returned to Middle-earth._ |

“| _Thank you_. |” Repeated Laurefindil with gratitude.

“| _Now, let's take some rest, please._ |” Elladan asked half guiltily half pleading. | _The hour is late and Elrohir and I must still assimilate the full extent of what you have announced to us tonight as well as think our actions so as to not regret them. We will start the research together tomorrow if you will._ |

Elly grimaced at these words. After being made aware of such dangers, such uncertainties as to what might happen to his family, the last thing he wanted to do was sleep. But Elladan was right. They all looked exhausted, and the discussion they had just had had drawn them even more.

Glorfindel nodded after a while, even though the movement was reluctant, and the two brothers got up from the bed and reached the door, greeted their friend one last time before going out.

That night, none of them slept.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it !
> 
> Don't hesitate to leave a comment or Kudo so i know what you think of my fanfic ! See you in the next chapter !


	7. Night at the hotel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, here is a new chapter !
> 
> This one has (only a beginig of) Slash but you will not have to wait long anymore ;) !
> 
> Also, sorry for the time it took to publish it, the exams have me a little out of time and inspiration... But i'm back !
> 
> Concerning names.  
> I was told that that speaking of Elladan and Elrohir sometimes with their human names and sometimes with their Elvish names made the text somewhat confused. So I would call them only by their Elvish names now except when it's only the human identities of the twins that are concerned by what is said.
> 
>  
> 
> ***IMPORTANT***  
> After reading the name *Glorifindel* somewhere (I don't remember where) I started to read it like this because I unfortunately don't have good eyes XD and also by habit instead of seeing the true spelling of his name. Therefore, I have just realized the BIG ERROR I have made as a Tolkien Fan and that I have repeated all along those chapters: (...
> 
> So I want to make it clear, Glorfindel (with the right spelling this time) is the name of my character, the same Glorfindel who defeated a balrog and lived in Imladris and I will quickly put this correction in ALL the chapters.
> 
> Thank you for your attention, and now we go with the chapter !

 

Finley was exhausted. He had worked his guts out today, both directing his team and participating to the excavations himself. The sun had been of lead until night had come and the cold winds of the desert took over. Not that it really affected him, he considered himself strong enough as to not be affected by a little heat or a bit of wind but it had slowed down the teams and the day had been wasted. No major discovery. Just old ruins and objects without interest. Without inscription or indications, in short, nothing that was of real value. As he entered the hotel room, he threw his hat on the sofa and carelessly put his briefcase on the table.

Sighing loudly, he sat heavily on the sofa and tilted his head back while closing his eyes.

He had traveled to Egypt following "trails" but had quickly discovered on his arrival that those so-called tracks were only crap and superstitions going in the region. He wondered if he would one day find this stupid and accursed relic. It was the work of a lifetime as the proverb said... Really, just time lost to nothing and it made him –

Suddenly something began to vibrate from underneath him. Startled, he slipped his hand into the back pocket of his jeans and took out his phone. The screen showed a call and an unknown number was displayed. Puzzled, he picked up and put the phone to his ear without a sound.

“Finley...?” Asked a hoarse voice on the other end of the line.

“Yes, TD...?” Finley answered recognizing the one calling.

“Yes.” Confirmed the voice. “We do not have much time to talk but I wanted to know how your trip is going on?”

“Uneventful.” He said.

“And family...?” Inquired the other person after a moment of hesitation.

Finley sighed and passed his hand over his face suddenly burdened by great tiredness.

“I have not seen them yet…” He confessed.

“I understand.” Said the other voice, sympatric. “I have to go, let me know if something changes.”

“Of course.” Finley replied before the other hang up.

He then pulled the phone out of his ear and stood a moment staring at the screen, looking vague.

This damn quest had taken him away from what was important. He could no longer afford to lose this precious time. He would stay a few months at most – in case his intuition proves false and he really finds something worth in these ruins without value – but he would not drag more, too much still remained to be done.

“Kyle?” He called as he straightened up and looked toward the door of the open bedroom from which a shirtless young man appeared. What food did the _Room service_ bring this time?”

“Soup and... Cake.” He stammered, uncertain.

Finley sighed with lassitude.

“Don’t tell me it's lentil soup and pudding again...!” He complained with exaggeration. “It's been three times they've put this already!”

Kyle stared at his feet and finally Finley spoke, not without another sigh:

“Very well, prepare it…” He accepted in a bad mood and Kyle already was taking the plates left on a small tray near the entrance to place them on the table.

Finley got up and went to sit heavily down in front of the plate Kyle was serving.

“I hope they will bring something else tomorrow…” He continued with his annoyed tirade, before seeing the bottle of alcohol and smiling slightly. “At least they didn’t forgot my Whiskey...!”

Putting the serving spoon into the dish and covering back the small pot of soup, Kyle quickly grabbed a white cloth on the tray and wrapping it on the cold bottle taken out of an ice bag, he went to fill a quarter of Finley's glass before putting two ice cubes in it. Finley then took the glass and drank a small sip, hardly enough to moisten his lips, before approving, satisfied of the taste.

“Give me more.” He told stretching his cup while he undid the band that held his black hair in a tight ponytail.

Kyle complied, obviously expecting his request and then put cloth and bottle again in their place while Finley was slowly eating his bowl of thick soup and drinking his glass of alcohol now filled to the brim, looking thoughtful again.

He did not know what to do. It had really been too long that he was looking in this area without finding anything but if there was nothing here, as he believed it, then where to look next...? Where else should he lose his time just for the hope to finally find that cursed object that seemed to elude him and drive him mad...? He was not the only one to whom this object could benefit once it was found, and he was certainly not the only one to look for it at the moment. That was why he had to get his hands on it as quickly as possible! But the researches had been all in vain! Boy, they had been useless...!

Fortunately, he did not go alone in this expedition because he would surely soon had tired and abandoned sooner. He had brought Kyle with him and it give him somebody to tell his day or to complain heavily and, even if his roommate was not very talkative, company was still company.

Yes, he had taken him on leaving England to pass time, but also because Kyle was immigrant, illiterate and did not speak a word of English – nor Arabic for that matter – he was therefore incapable to fend for himself. Sometimes Finley really wondered if Kyle was more a weight than a help... He had thought many times about getting rid of him – it would not be really hard that is... – but at the last moment he always changed his mind.

Finley grunted, mentally reproaching herself of being too soft of late and then lazily stared at the man still standing beside him cleaning his – What?!

“What are you doing?” He asked abruptly, disapprovingly. “Eat!”

Startled, Kyle quickly raised his head and, after looking cautiously at him, sat down in front of Finley and placing his plate, take soup and began to eat it quickly, spoon shocking with the bowl.

 

***

 

When the two men had finished their dinner, Finley decided he deserved a good shower and went into the bathroom, removing his clothes and letting those fall on the ground before closing the door behind him. After half an hour spent under the warm, steady flow of the shower, he went out sleepy, a towel briefly draped over his hips as he dried his hair with another. He then sat down on the sofa and turned on the television while Kyle cleared the table and put all plate on the service trolley.

“Kyle, Whiskey…” Finley muttered half-asleep while lazily checking the available channels.

The young man brought him his glass again filled with alcohol and fresh ice, then waited the bottle in his hand, hesitant.

“It’s fine like that…” Finley said after glancing at him.

Kyle got back in motion, putting the bottle on the tray, and then a knock was heard at the door of the suite.

“Sir Martins, Sir Lane?” A female voice spoke from behind the door. “Have you finished your meal?”

Looking nervous, Kyle turned to Finley who frowned annoyed.

“What are you waiting for?” He said harshly. “Get the door opened, they come to get the dishes!”

With a nod, the brown-haired man went to do just that and made a small gesture with his arm, inviting the maid to come in and showing her where all the plates were.

“Ah, all right…” The young woman said in an English heavily accented and a practiced smile on her lips before going to retrieve the tray and walk out.

Even half asleep, Finley caught a glimpse of the stealthy and not at all discreet look that the employee threw at Kyle, still bare-chested. His lips bent slightly into mockery and discontent but quickly he redirected his attention to the TV screen and soon the door closed. Finley then tried to pay attention to what the journalist was presenting as the sofa sagged a little as Kyle sat in silence.

_"...recently that gang attacks didn’t seem to just be taking place in residential neighborhoods anymore as one of them occurred in a shopping mall in San Francisco yesterday afternoon. "_

Said the presenter with his usual calm and professionalism in front of a bored Finley.

_"We were told that the group of aggressors made of approximately ten individuals, arrived in a black van and quickly dispersed to enter through various entrances of the building before taking out their weapons and fire while penetrating the shops. Their attack seemed unprepared and some of the responsible were arrested by San Francisco police, but there are a large number of wounded and some of the shooters are still on the run today. The police are presently questioning the arrested persons but they have not yet made a statement. We are therefore waiting for more information about the number of wounded and ... “_

“Pathetic...!” Finley sneered before grabbing the remote control and turning off the TV.

Without taking a look at his roommate, he stood up from the sofa and went to the bedroom. In the main room, there was no trace of the clothes he had thrown before. Yawning noisily, he entered the bedroom and let the towel slid from his waist before also abandoning the one with which he had dried his hair, now of no use. He then opened the doors of the little wooden cupboard, listening absently to the discrete steps that walked in and out of the room. There, he grabbed two pairs of underwear and, to Kyle coming back to the room, he implicitly asked to approach before throwing one to him. Catching it, the young man quickly took off his pants and silently pulled the black boxer on. Finley then was amused to see how he folded the jeans carefully and take them out of the room before coming back empty-handed and slid into one of the two little beds, curling up and not moving anymore.

Turning his attention off his roommate, Finley put on similar underwear himself, lay down on the second bed present – he had booked a small suite of acceptable comfort but when they arrived they had discovered that the lone bed was in fact two of one person put together and they had separated them – and stretched out under the sheets, sighing exhausted.

But, sleep did not seem to want to take him and long after he heard Kyle breathe softly, asleep, Finley remained fixing the white ceiling. The same questions and doubts continued to turn in his head and anger also kept him awake. He would not hold for long in this impossible situation... In fact, he finally decided, he would stay in Egypt a few more weeks and if he had not found the shadow of a clue from here, he would abandon the site and go elsewhere, He would surely understand.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it, leave a kudo or a comment, real opinions are always welcome !


	8. …And day at the shopping mall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go with another chapter !
> 
> Sorry for the long wait i had some problems finishing this one haha... Also it is not beta readed yet because i really wanted to publish Something before going on holidays but the corrections will be made later :)
> 
> Enjoy !

Glorfindel sighed. Above him, the sky was blue and cloudless, the air seeming healthier here. He wanted to take indulge in it. _Really_. But at that moment his mind was turned to anything but fine weather.

Barefoot in the sand and shoes in his hand, his gaze was distant and sad as he walked along the beach. His steps left the dry sand almost untouched, as if the waves at that height could reach it and erase all traces. The beach was deserted so early in the morning, and the water was still too cold for anyone to swim in it... There was no one, like every other time.

Sitting in the fresh sand, Laurefindil stared at the vast surface of the ocean.

It had already been more than a week since he and the sons of Elrond started looking for the presence of one of their own: in newspapers, on “television” or on the “Internet”. In vain. There were no traces or facts other than the one which the twins had told him to have seen a few days before his arrival, and which could have led them on the trail of one of their own perhaps present in Middle-earth.

Of course, Adrian and Elly Reed continued to take care of their responsibilities in the world of Men. Elrohir was a professor at a prestigious school, "ULCA", and Elladan had told him to be the head of a food business. Glorfindel had been a little shocked that the elder of the twins could occupy such an unfitting position, but Elrond's son had replied and tried to explain that it was not a bad function. He had quoted words like "Concepts," "Brand," or "Globalization" but Laurefindil had not understood and seeing the frustration of his brown friend who was trying but could not explain to him, Glorfindel had finally changed the topic.

But, despite not having found anything yet, Glorfindel no longer felt so helpless in the face of the situation: Lord Elrohir and Elladan seemed to behave more openly with him and, even if the younger still did not return at the end of weeks, he sometimes communicated with him through the "Phone" and the elder stayed with him late at night to talk about their research, or other less serious matters.

He did not know why they had been distant with him, or even what had changed their behavior afterwards, but Laurefindil could now hope to begin understanding this new Middle-earth and act on it. He had not lost any more time: he had begun to learn “English” with Elladan as well as to understand how to use a telephone and to use the "Shower".

Caught up in his thoughts, he came back to reality when a seagull croaked over his head and he closed his eyes, getting into other, much darker memories.

A stone-built port, cold metal structures, explosions... Impressive towers rising, menacingly, towards the sky, similar to the old metal fortress of Isengard... Excruciating noises, the air - Apparently clear and pure - suffocating with each breath took; Like the thickest smoke...

He shook his head to get rid of these images he did not want to relive and went up on the beach in the direction of the road. There he noticed a man approaching him and quickly putting on his shoes, he stepped toward him. Arriving near the man, he moistened his lips and tried to remember how he was supposed to greet him. It was a simple syllable, was not it? A single sound...?

“Hi.” He said and was about to perform a formal elven salute before remembering that Lord Elladan had told him that it was not needed.

Laurefindil heard the man return his greeting and tell him something else, from which he only recognized the word "taxi".

“Yes.” He replied, shaking his head vigorously, relieved that he had somewhat understood what the man was asking for. “Taxi.”

The man spoke to him again, words incomprehensible to him, but as the man turned on his heels and went away, Glorfindel followed him.

Further on, Glorfindel perceived as he had supposed the object which Elrohir had described to him as a sort of chariot not requiring horses to move and that Laurefindil now knew to be a "Car", or on certain occasions a “taxi”. So he got into the vehicle with the driver and the thing, seeming to come alive on its own, allowed them to leave the beach.

The journey to his destination was a little long and he finally extricated himself with joy from the car, giving the money – a simple piece of colored parchment apparently... – that the brown twin had left him to pay the transport to the man who seizes it more than satisfied.

Glorfindel then entered what he considered to be a kind of vast inn or relay point, an “hotel". He then took the stairs that would lead him to the room he shared with Elladan, the "elevator" making him a little nervous and wanting to hit the metal walls of this... moving platform until they crumble before him and let him out. It had made a little commotion on the first day when Laurefindil and his friend had come to lodge here.

On reaching the second floor, he counted the number of doors to his right, still unable to read the numbers, and finally found the one in which he had slept the night before.

“...All right, I'm looking forward to talking with you soon.” Elladan said as Glorfindel entered the room before turning over his computer screen and turning to look at him. “| _Have you encountered any difficulties with the transport?_ |”

“| _No, I followed your instructions and everything went well._ |”

“| _Good, have you found anything that can help us_? |”

“| _I'm afraid not,_ |” confessed the blonde elf with a small sigh. “| _if this thing, which or whatever it was, was really present to frighten the couple of humans on this part of the coast, then it is no more._ |”

“| _I suspected that._ |” Elladan shook his head to look thoughtful. “| _But we can not be sure of anything and this event having been our only semblance of track ... If you want we can..._ |”

The half-elf interrupted his reflections there as a strange thundering sound filled the room. Quickly, he turned to his laptop and opened the screen to view it.

“| _Lord Glorfindel, come!_ |” He called his friend, a slight smile on his lips. “| _It is my brother who seeks to contact us!_ |”

Elladan pressed the "pick up" button while Glorfindel came to sit at the table next to him and a second passed before the transcribed image of Elrohir appeared in front of them on what Glorfindel still called "The thin Palantir " for the greatest amusement of the twins.

“| _Mae Govannen._ |” Saluted the fair-haired elf, placing his hand on his heart, and inclining his head, after elvish custom.

“| _Mae Govannen!_ |” Elrohir answered cheerfully, although feeling a bit uncomfortable with this formality he was no longer used to.

“| _How is your week in |_ Los Angeles?” Elladan asked his brother in a light tone.

“| _Most wonderfully without you to lecture me my Brother!_ |” Elrohir responded playfully.

Elladan just smiled like Glorfindel and after a moment, Elrohir's image stared at the blonde elf.

“| _I am pursuing my researches Lord Glorfindel. If we have not yet found any evidence of the presence of other Eldar, it does not mean that we will not find it, I keep hope._ |”

To this Laurefindil's expression lost his amusement and, seriously, he fixed his gaze in that of the twin on the screen before nodding once, silently.

“| _Well..._ |” Elladan broke nervously the silence settled. “ _| If it is not to give us some new information then why did you called Brother?_ |”

“| _Have I not the right to wish to greet my dear Brother and my friend?_ | Elrohir joked, smiling, but a little uncomfortable.

“| _Of course!_ |” Glorfindel quickly replied feeling a little guilty for bringing the two brothers into a sad mood and smiling to try and change that.

“| _Sure!_ |” Elladan said too more merrily. | _And know that_ we _have news,_ “| _Lord Glorfindel and I intend to go to the mall to buy him some fitting clothes._ |”

“| _Pardon me?_ |” The concerned interjected surprised, turning his head quickly towards the brown twin.

“| _Yes, you much need new clothes mellon nín, you can not continue to wear my brother's clothes and shoes or mine._ |”

“| _Well, my Brother, it seems you have forgotten to inform Lord Glorfindel of your intentions._ |”

“| _Indeed!_ |” Confirmed Glorfindel, nodding his head to the screen and then turning his attention to Elladan, asking for an explanation.

“| _Lord, you know that I am right!_ |” Said Elladan, fixing him too now.

“| _Well, I think I will leave you now because a class is waiting for me and I do not want to be the witness of one of your different...!_ |” Announced Elrohir on the screen with a smile on his lips. “| _Navaer!_ |”

“| _What?_ |” Elladan exclaimed in surprise, looking again at his brother, who was saluting him with his hand.  “| _No, wait...!_ |”

But a “beep” was heard and the Skype connection broke off showing a big aggressive red phone and causing a long sigh from the half-elf.

“| _The… vision has disappeared._ |” Glorfindel remarked without understanding.

Elladan gave him a very pointed look as he was saying what was obvious but blinked several times.

“| _Yes._ |” He then recalled that his friend was still far from familiar with human technology. “| _My brother put an end to the… exchange._ |”

Glorfindel nodded, feeling a bit uncertain, as every time he had to deal with one of these new inventions of Men.

“| _Good._ |” Adrian said satisfied that his friend at least understood him this time. “| _Let's go buy new clothes Lord_. |”

“| _I do not want to go back to this... city._ |” Opposed darkly Glorfindel crossing his arms and repressing a shudder.

“| _Believe me, I understand your reservations._ |” Elladan cautiously began, feeling the guilt rise again for the bad experiences his friend had to endure when he arrived in Middle-earth. “| _But if you want to be able to evolve in this world, you have to learn discretion. The best way to do this is to make people believe as much as possible that you are one of them._ |”

“| _All right._ |” He agreed after a moment looking at the son of Elrond, thinking. “| _But promise me that I would not be obliged to wear the same strange clothes that Lord Elrohir wore!_ |”

Elladan blinked. Blinked again. Then he opened his eyes wide as his lips twitched and he turned his head suspiciously out of Glorfindel's vision. The latter looked at his former student with narrowing eyes but after a moment the brown elf cleared his throat and stared at him, crossing his arms again. The blond sighed.

“| _Very well,_ |” He finally said. “| _let's go to this... how do you say...?_ |”

“Shopping mall.” Helped Elladan.

Glorfindel wanted to repeat the word pronounced by his friend but it did not go beyond his thoughts because he was not sure how to spell it. Instead, he nodded and the two elves left the hotel room.

 

***

 

Glorfindel looked at himself in the mirror of the public toilets, and only one thought came to his mind: Strange.

“| _Come!_ |” Elladan said at his side. “| _Place yourself here and fix the object._ |”

The blonde elf did as he was asked and stared at the small black box that Elladan held in the air in front of them.

“| _There!_ |” He exclaimed after a few seconds. “| _Look!_ |”

The half-elf showed him the "phone" which was now bright and he could see a kind of painting showing himself staring puzzled.

“| _Is it really a necessity?_ |” He asked, as he had done several times already in a few minutes.

“| _Yes, it is essential if you want to remain discreet. |_ ” Elrond's son replied in a monotonous voice as he was writing on his phone.

─ I bought him his first lenses, what do you think? ─

He wrote on the small message screen.

“| _It seems to strange to me..._ |" Glorfindel looked at the mirror uncomfortably.

“| _This is far from strange_ . |” Assured the brown elf glancing at his friend and quickly refocusing on his phone to continue mumbling, distracted. “| _I sent a message to my brother, containing this... representation of you..._ |”

“| _You lie!_ |” The Noldorin elf retoured, his eyes narrowing, but as he did not get an answer, he resumed after a moment, curious. “| _What does he say?_ |”

When Elladan was about to answer, the phone vibrated and the two elves looked at the small object at the same time.

“| _He says... |_ ”

Elladan opened the message box and read.

─ Scary :o... ─

“| _That it suits you perfectly._ |” He finished his face smoothing in a perfect blank expression.

“| _You are lying again!_ |” Pointed Laurefindil frowning annoyed.

“| _Of course not, why would I do such a thing?_ |” Replied Elladan, turning on his heels and heading as fast as possible towards the toilet exit.

“| _Sweet Stars...!_ |” Glorfindel exclaimed, seeing the half-elf leave. “| _Elrondion come back immediately!_ |”

He then followed the step of the young brown man with a last look at the mirror showing a pair of eyes that now oscillated between fauve and gold according to the light touching it.

 

***

 

“| Well, | said the elder son of Elrond with the attitude of a professional stating facts, “| _we bought you clothes and lenses, now we just need shoes and I know the Ideal place for that._ |”

“| _It seems to me that we already have seen shelves of shoes in the stalls of clothes that we have seen before,_ |” Glorfindel remarked giving an incredulous look to Elladan, “| _yet you did not seem to be interested at the time._ |”

“| _Everything humans do is not of an irreproachable quality,_ |” Elladan testified, an expression pinched on the face, | _what you saw my Lord was cheap and made from poor materials, “| What we will see is much more suitable, come._ |”

Laurefindil seemed to consider the answer for a second and finally nodded with a small shrug before following the half-elf in the Hugo Boss shop.

They then entered the shop and began to slowly walk among the shelves, the Noldorin elf observing now the shoes looking confused and sometimes, when customers passed them by them, casting nervous and suspicious glances at them.

“| _Good._ |” Interviewed Elladan with a sidelong glance at the elf beside him, hoping to direct the attention of his friend of the surroundings. “| _The first thing to do is to find shoes at your waist but see before if one of the exposed models pleases you._ |”

The blonde elf threw a circular look, more lost than really observing the shelves.

“| _How am I supposed to know what is fitting to wear for a human?_ |” He answered dryly.

“| Lord Glorfindel I assure you that any shoe is suitable and comfortable in this store. |” Calmly assured the half-elf not begrudging the tone of his friend.

Glorfindel stared at Elladan for a moment and finally looked away to strove and look at the shelves of shoes. After a few seconds, he walked over to the boxes and took in his hand a shoe that was placed on it, exposed. Turning it in his hands, he looked at it, blinking several times, not used to the lenses he wore, and then led it to his nose, smelling the strong scent of leather coming from it. He then felt the weight of a glance on him and, turning his head to the right, saw a man staring, turning away only when their eyes met and Glorfindel again became suspicious. The elf watched as the human moved away, but stared at him until he didn’t see him anymore. Putting this matter aside, Glorfindel turned to his former student.

“| _This one is made of leather, is not it?_ |”

“| _Indeed it is._ |” Elladan approached as he approached. “| _It is a very popular material in the making of shoes._ |”

“| Then I chose this one, |" announced Laurefindil after quickly observing what he held in his hands. “| _where is the second...?_ |”

“| _Let’s find your size._ |” The brown elf replied with a small smile before bending over and looking among the boxes of shoes. “| _The complete pairs are in the boxes._ |”

Hesitating for a moment, he finally takes out several boxes and put them balanced on his right arm.

“| _Let's try these if you will, you do not need the one that is presented alone._ |”

After that, Glorfindel followed Elladan to the fitting-rooms several times to complete Glorfindel’s new wardrobe with shoes as well. Having paid at the checkout – a system that Glorfindel had a hard time understanding – they finally came out of the shop with their arms loaded with new bags and headed to the exit of the mall.

But they had not made a dozen of steps before they heard cries coming from farther than their eyes could see. As they both froze, they watched the people around them do the same and turn towards the sounds. Soon, however, the movement took place. Vivid and sudden, the crowd grew denser around Elladan and Glorfindel, tightening, shoving them violently.

“| _BY MANWË WHAT IS HAPPENING NOW?_ |” The blonde elf shouted furiously getting into a defensive stand as he mentally cursed the illogical and aggressive behavior of the humans of that era.

“| _Stay calm, please!_ |” Replied the half-elf anxious to see the situation go wrong as the one he had called “the episode of the elevator" and yet he was equally troubled by the reaction of the people.

Glorfindel turned his attention to his friend to ask him if he knew why the humans had this sudden reaction but a loud sound made the words die on his lips. Slowly, he turned towards the sound as his face lost all its colors and he did not move.

A detonation. Followed by another...

The crowd howled with terror and rushed in every direction.

Several more sounded...

Elladan and Glorfindel were now crushed by people trying to escape and a violent blow to the shoulder eventually brought the half-elf out of his torpor, seizing the arm of his immobile friend, he then rushed through the crowd. Laurefindil then seemed to recover his ability to move and thankfully realized that he was not carried away by the masses but rather grabbed by the son of Elrond who was obviously trying to get them out of the mall as soon as possible, so he ran after him, knocking and pushing out of the way the panic-stricken people who were doing the same with him.

Elladan and Laurefindil were running like mads as they made their way desperately through the crowd, barely able to sneak in without colliding but always following one another closely as the half-elf's hand was clasped around the Noldo's wrist like a vise. Then suddenly, the general movement accelerated. Surprised Glorfindel was hit hard by the mass. His back came into contact with a window shop and the pain seemed to drain the air from the lungs as bright colors filled his vision. When he could breathe again, he was still standing, leaning against the window, and even more people were running past him, each time pressing him a little more against the glass. Panicked, he looked around and he realized something else. Elrond's son was nowhere in sight. Alarmed, he rushed into the tumult without any consideration for the persons whose fall he would provoke.

“| _LORD ELLADAN!_ |” He yelled in the chaos surrounding him. “| _ELRONDION!_ |”

“| _GLORFINDEL...!_ |” Elladan shouted just before being thrown to his right and pushed forward until he fell hard on the cold tile floor. “| _GLORFINDEL WHERE ARE YOU?_ |”

Among the chaos the eyes of the half-elf and the Noldo met by pure chance and quickly the blonde ran to his friend and tried to help him get up in spite of the crazy crowd that seemed to want to completely engulf them.

Bags then forgotten, they continued to flee and as they finally arrived in sight of the exit door, shots resounded again, these much closer and – Glorfindel realized – coming from the front and not the back.

“| _TURN BACK!_ |” Panicked Elladan, already tugging away his friend who had turned and fled with him as well. “| _GET BACK!_ |”

But already the shots sounded too close, Laurefindil knew it. Seizing Elladan by the sleeve, he threw himself into the first gap he found in the crowd and taking his friend with him, they entered a clothing store.

“| _WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!_ |” Elladan roared frightened to death as he was carried away by the blonde elf, running a mad race through the deserted shelves full of clothes abandoned on the floor. “ | _WE HAVE TO GET OUT OF HERE...!_ |”

“| _Enemy is too close!_ | The other replied without slowing down, and turning then to his right before squatting behind a shelf displaying shoes in the back of the shop.

“| _Are you aware that there is no other exit to this shop?_ |” Elladan also crouched, murmured his voice an accusing whisper. “| _If the men from the attack find us here we will not escape!_ |”

Before Glorfindel was could respond, screams of terror reached them from the gallery, as the shooting resounded in hundreds deadly shots in the corridor. Hidden behind the shelf, the two elves remained in total silence, and with each detonation, Laurefindil repressed a tremor, with each shooting, Elladan's fists were tightened, his joints becoming white.

The moment seemed to last eternally with incredible violence until the situation reached its climax with the explosion of the windows of the shop where the two friends were. Then followed the silence. Complete and imperturbable, it seemed more horrible than the detonations had been. Glorfindel and Elladan did not look at each other. Now seated on the floor, their blank eyes were staring at the shelves in front of them. A sigh escaped the blonde elf, more a nervous exhalation than anything else and he turned his attention to his companion.

“| _Elrondion...?_ |” He called in a whisper, anxious to be discovered but also to see the pale and tight expression on the face of the son of Elrond.

The asked turned his head towards him slowly, white as snow and seeming to rediscover the presence of his friend by his side.

“| _Is not there a way to get out quickly?_ |” Laurefindil grabbed the hand of the brown elf and speaking once he really had his attention.

Elladan stared at what was in front of him so that Glorfindel thought he had not heard him or would not answer, but after a moment the brown elf took a deep breath, swallowed hard and replied:

“| _It’s... I... I believe..._ |” he whispered intelligible, his free hand closed on his folded knee.

“| _Lord Elladan._ |” Called the blonde elf, his tone discreet but pressing in spite of himself as he squeezed the shoulders of the half-elf to comfort him. “| _Where is this exit?_ |”

“| _The… The_ | fire exit… He continued seeming to barely notice the Noldorin elf before turning toward him suddenly. | _Come!_ |”

Saying that, he turned and stood up slowly to see if the surroundings were really deserted. Seeing no one, the two elves came out of their hiding place to head towards the entrance of the shop with the discretion of one of their people and before their eyes, laid a vision of disaster and horror.

Bodies of men, women or children, lying on the ground by dozens, dead and left at the place of their fall, their expression frozen in fear or pain.

The eyes of the two friends went through the morbid scene and Elladan suddenly stifled a cry with his fist as he staggered back until he collapsed into what remained of the showcases, millions of sharp glass shards. His eyes were wide and blind, he breathed with difficulty. Laurefindil murmuring the words of prayer for the dead saw him stagger and came to him quickly.

"| _Elrondion!_ |” He exclaimed, crouching down beside him. "| _Are you hurt?_ |”

Without waiting for an answer, he quickly grabbed his hands and examined each face. They were covered with cuts and blood but the damage was fortunately only superficial. Glorfindel glanced over at his friend to make sure he was not otherwise hurt and then put a hand on his back to help him straighten up.

"| _Some may still be alive... |"_ Elladan breathed, his voice faint.

Laurefindil looked at the beings motionless on the ground with grief. Perhaps a heart was beating too weakly to be heard, but even if they found a person still alive, they could do nothing for her without healing or healing material...

"| _Their fae have left their bodies,_ |" declared the Noldo with finality before turning his eyes of the victims to stare at his old student, “| _we can do nothing for them, come!_ |"

He then pushed Elladan slightly forward and taking a deep breath, the brown elf strove to walk alone, forward to guide them to a fire exit.

Soon they walked down the corridors of the silent shopping mall crowded with silhouettes lying on the ground. Glorfindel clenched his face in front of such sight of desolation, and Elladan forced himself to breathe calmly, while his eyes leaped from boutiques to shops, from alley to alley, expecting at any moment to see the shooters emerge from thin air. Then suddenly, other shots were heard. The half-elf stopped so suddenly at the sound that Noldo nearly collided with him and Elladan rushed towards the railing before Glorfindel could stop him.

At this very moment Laurefindil thought he saw a movement in the limit of his vision.

He turned towards the direction and beyond the railing, Glorfindel thought he could see a silhouette moving rapidly between the bodies lying on the floor. Tall and agile, she moved forward with fluidity in the corridor crowded with dead, a dark and brief cloud only passing through the macabre scene without being affected.

A series of shots resounded then, breaking the ephemeral moment and Elladan fell to the ground hidden behind the opaque window of the railing. Alarmed, Glorfindel was beside the half-elf in a heartbeat.

"| _I'm not hurt._ |” Then he assured Elladan, looking more frightened than hurt. “| _Come, the exit is only a few steps away!_ |”

They both straightened up, and as Elladan was already leaving, Glorfindel cast a last disturbed glance over the rail and into the ground floor, again frozen in the same oppressive calm.

"| _We are near Lord Glorfindel!_ |" Pressed the half-elf after noticing his friend's pause. "| _Make haste please!_ |”

They both walked in the direction of the door, which was actually only some meters away, but they had only done a few steps when Eladan suddenly collapsed with a plaintive cry, Laurefindil having just the time to catch him and slow his fall.

"| _Elrondion!_ |" The Noldo elf exclaimed as he crouched to the floor with the brown elf and passed his arm behind his back firmly to keep him in a sitting position since he did not seem to be able to do it himself.

"| _I..._ | " gasped Elrond's son palpating his abdomen hesitantly, his face stunned and terrified. "| _I finally... might have been hurt..._ |"

And when Elladan's hand lifted, Glorfindel could contemplate the blood that had spread over his friend's fingers and clothes. His eyes opened with horror and he remained petrified. The second after, however, he resumed moving and, undoing Elladan's shirt, analyzed the damage done to his friend: A small perforation, in the thoracic cage, that made blood flow abundantly.

"| _I see no projectile!_ |" He said angrily after a moment before palpating the round end of the wound and unintentionally getting a cry of pain from the half-elf.

“| _You will not find it...!_ |” Breathed painfully Elladan.

“| _Nonsense...!_ |" Laurefindil returned voice agitated and stubborn in look.

But very conscious that at every second his friend loosed more of blood, he removed his shirt and, pulling a piece, tied the fabric tightly around the waist of the half-elf getting a plaintive grunt in response.

Elladan then fell heavily to the ground and continued panting with a haggard look. Glorfindel looked around him as if the help they needed could suddenly come from a nowhere and then stared back at his friend, whose face was paler and paler, he took him by the shoulders and tried to catch his vague gaze.

"| _Hold on!_ |" He demanded despite his slightly trembling voice. " | _I'm going to get help!_ |”

But before he could move, Laurefindil felt the cold hands of Elrond's son grab his arms and plant his nails in it. The half-elf had still a panicked look but also glassy, he was hyperventilating eyes wide open in terror.

"| _Do not let them..._ |” He breathed out short. “| _Take my blood..._ |”

“| _Lord, do not speak!_ |" The Noldorin elf replied trying to look calm in front of his former student.” | _You must..._ |”

Elladan seized him with more conviction and drawing him nearer by force, he stared at Glorfindel with his hysterical gaze and, aggressively, almost spat his next words:

"| _If they want to take my blood..._ |" He said before taking another painful breath and continuing in an anguished tone. "| _Promise me... You will not let them..._ |"

Glorfindel remained silent and suddenly a strange rumbling sound was heard, echoing in the deserted corridor.

"| _Elrondion..._ |" Glorfindel started nervously before giving in to the terrified and imploring look of the brown elf. "| _I promise._ |”

The promise made, the half-elf seemed to be mollifying and slowly his hands loosened, a sigh, an expression almost of relief if it had not been for the atrocious pain he felt near his chest and his crazy look seem to appease. He wanted to put into words his thanks but he felt so tired suddenly, his eyes really insisted on closing...

“| _Elrondion...?!_ |" Exclaimed Glorfindel, feeling the cold invades him staring at his friend who closed his eyes and began to shake him violently. "| _MELLON!_ |”

But it was vain, for even if his eyelids opened under the movement, the head moved without resistance, the eyes remained empty and revulsed.

“| _NO!_ |" Laurefindil shouted, abandoning the semblance of calm he had given himself and denying what he saw as he trembled and the buzzing continued to fill his ears. “| _MELLON NÍN OPEN YOUR EYES!_ |”

Then he realized something at once. The noise he heard came from the vibrations produced by Elladan's cell phone. There was the way to receive help he needed! Anxiously, he began to search over his friend looking for the small device. But by all the Valar he could not find it! Where had his friend put it?

The device rang again for a few seconds and Laurefindil, finally finding it in Elladan's jeans pocket, turned the phone feverishly towards him. To see the call screen disappears. He remained passive for a moment, staring at the bright screen in front of him with an absent glance, refusing to believe it. Then he seemed to come back suddenly into action and his trembling fingers began to tap repeatedly on the screen but nothing seemed to happen. No communication was put in place.

Desperate, Laurefindil looked at his friend, still inert and pale, the piece of shirt around his chest, now scarlet-colored, and finally, he glanced haggardly around him, only seeing the deserted corridors. Slowly, he heard sharp and repetitive noises ringing closer and closer and he wondered what curses could still keep these humans. One thing, however, was clear: if he did not find a healer as soon as possible, Elrond's son would not survive. Only... If Laurefindil left his friend and went looking for a healer, he was not sure he could find him alive on his return…

 


	9. Encounter long awaited

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the next chapter :)!
> 
> I had planned to post it much sooner but it took me too much time to finish it because I had a lot of things to do and not enough time so i had nearly no time at all to work on the chapter...
> 
> I warn you, in this chapter there will be a bit of violence (not much but I prefer to be cautious...) and a slash scene a bit described... YES AT LAST, the slash that I keep talking about is here! For those who don't like these things, go to the " *** " part to read without too much risk :) (At this point on the chapter there is a scene of the same kind but less implied...)
> 
> About some words:
> 
> On a website called "ambar Eldaron" i found a word list (i am not certain it's reliable but well...) that show what is apparently Valarin. It is in this list that I found the word  
> "machanaz, pl. Māchanumâz" which is supposed to mean "Authority(ies)", " The One(s) who judge/decide (name which is used, for example, for the greater of the Valar and which is translated as "Aratar" in quenya).
> 
> Note : In the chapter "And day at the shopping mall" the place where Elladan get hurt is changed so this strory could still be realistic and the son of Elrond get some chance to stay alive XD
> 
> Enjoy reading!

 

Finley woke to the sweet smell of fried bacon. He contemplated for a moment the sweet idea of pretending to sleep and stay under the covers but the fragrance got finally reason of him and he pulled back the sheets, mind already thinking about his breakfast. As he stretched slowly, he moved his shoulder, producing a pleasant “clac” and padded to exit the room. He then went into the living room and saw Kyle getting the meal ready, plates full of bacon, fried eggs, toast and other marmalades put in the center of the table.

Sitting lazily, he waited for Kyle to serve him and began eating, telling his roommate to do the same. They took their breakfast silently and at the end of their meal the brown man cleared the table while the other quickly went to dress himself to finally sat on the couch and turning on the television.

"I'll come back late today.” Finley said to his friend who was still silent but whom he always knew to listen. "Make sure everything is ready when I get here."

Gazing distractedly at the TV program, the black-haired man seemed to remember something and looked over his shoulder, at the brown man standing by the table.

"You should also take a shower, you smell.” He added, looking critically at the other, from head to toe.

Kyle looked up shyly and, after an uncertain movement, left, silently disappearing behind the bathroom door.

Turning again to the television, Finley resumed the distracted listening of the recipe "Bœuf Bourguignon" presented by the cook. In front of those images, a greedy smile came to him and unconsciously, his right hand began to drum on the arm of the sofa. His eyes left the screen after a while and went to rest on the bathroom door. He stayed like this a moment longer before rising slowly. Going to the door he had looked to, he found it unlocked as he had supposed and slowly lowered the handle before entering the room silently.

Inside, the atmosphere was warm and damp, the sound of flowing water echoing with a constant rustle and, quietly, Finley took a few steps before rapidly removing his shoes, shirt, jeans and underwear leaving them on the floor. He then approached the fogged and half-transparent window of the shower. With the same smile that had not left him, he slid the window and he could then contemplate Kyle who, back to him, moved the shower head across his back, the hot water sliding on his naked body. Finley stood for a moment detailing what was in front of him and suddenly he saw the young man shudder and stiffen. Slowly, he seemed to want to look over his shoulder but he interrupted his movement, his head just barely turned.

It was at this moment that Finley emerged from his contemplation and, entering completely in the shower, put his right arm around Kyle and surrounded his waist possessively, while with his left hand he turned the tap until the flow of the water stopped. After this, the hand came to brush against a damp cheek, rising up to an ear, softly pushing a few locks of silken hair so he could pass his tongue on an ear lobe, nibble at it. Finley felt the body against his shiver again and heard Kyle sigh imperceptibly before tilting his head to the side and allow him access to his neck. With a brief smile, Finley passed his tongue, then his lips to the neck presented to him, licking, sucking but as the man sighed under the sensations he was getting, the hand of the black-haired man hand padded along a hip, descending in a trailing caress to his sex...

Then, firmly, Finley closed his hand in a fist on Kyle's penis. With an expert hand, he traveled all the way down it and up again, in a swift rhythm. The young man let his head fall back on Finley's shoulder and began to move his pelvis, coupling with the movements his companion made on his member. Pleased, Finley heard him sigh and groan, the flesh in his hand more and more tense and hard under the stimulation of his fingers which explored it. He then amused himself passing his thumb on the end of the sex of the man trembling in his arms, with small movements slow and circular, repetitive. Kyle's reaction did not wait as the penis continued to grow, sweating with sperm, and the brown man uttered a small plaintive sound of satisfaction.

The archaeologist then continued exploring the territory he knew so well and, slowly, his left hand came to rest on the warm torso along the ribs, covering them widely and finally making his palm travel to a nipple, fingers grabbing and tugging playfully the hardened, pink skin of it. Kyle let out another sound between sigh and complaint before timidly placing his own fingers close to those of Finley and caressing his own nipple. Finley's hand, however, left the place before they could touch each other and, coming up the neck in the same way he had gone down, moved his hand fingers after fingers – as one would take a step – along the cheek, stopping near the lips. There, he slid his index gently between them, causing them to open and then penetrating the wet and hot cavity of Kyle's mouth. The lingual muscle stroked his forefinger and middle finger, covering them with saliva, slowly cuddled them as it used to do, and a complacent smile appeared on Finley's lips.

The black-haired man left his fingers for a moment in this warm, comfortable place, but ended by leaving it suddenly. Without hesitation, he then directed his digits covered with saliva to place them before the anus of his brown companion and enter his rectum. He felt Kyle stiffen suddenly, and saw his head instinctively move out of his shoulder as if all of him wanted to curl back on himself. But Finley ignored the reaction and went on with what he had planned to do, beginning to move his two fingers in a quick rhyme, putting them in and out, taking them out and entering them each in turn or together as his other hand continued his work on the ardent sex... And his roommate remained prostrate but not motionless, his hands in turn squeezing the tap with iron grip andand and loosening it, his breath coming out faintly in the same way that his moaning – now frequent and more and more distinct – stifled by the position of his head.

Then, Finley judged the preparation good enough. Pulling out his fingers from Kyle’s anus and leaving his cock, he grabbed the man by his hips and impaled him with a fluid movement, Kyle releasing a hoarse cry that echoed in the shower at the intrusion.

"No! Kyle cried out soon after as he throwed himself against the shower wall in a tentative of escape and grabbed the thigh behind him with his right hand, digging his nails in it.

─ _Don’t you touch me_! Finley roared back before aggressively getting rid of the hand in his thigh and pressing it on the shower tile, provoking a dull thud and prompting another cry from the young man.

Then, any semblance of affection disappeared completely. Lecherous and unstoppable, he pounded in Kyle, keeping him only by the hips and letting him collide with the wall intermittently, Kyle's forearm being the only thing preventing too many hurts, and Finley continued to penetrate and extricate himself from the body in front of him with furious and rash trusts, to dig his fingernails in the young man's hips and mark him red, to moan and growl in satisfaction, a cacophony of sounds sometimes interrupted by screams – of pain, pleasure or both, Finley was not sure – of his partner.

"Say my name!” Ordered Finley in a rough, shaking voice as he once again took and possessed every part of Kyle's and met with his prostate, getting the other to cry out. " _Call for me_!"

Kyle let out a groan and bit the lip he was already digging his teeth in when, in a wet sound, Finley withdrew from him again and a scarlet fluid emerged from his orifice to slowly slid down over his buttocks and continue along his legs, marring the humid ground. After a few seconds, the black-haired man, irritated of not getting an answer, plunged his erect penis with even more violence into Kyle's bleeding hole, a furious vengeance. In his enraged act, he hit the body in front of him with his hips and he heard it then. At first a stifled complaint, Kyle continued to repeat his name more and more louder. In the end, he howled so that the room resounded with his screams, that his body shook with the power of his cries. Then only Finley agreed to reduce the pace with which he had brutally assaulted him and shortly thereafter he froze completely to come intensely inside Kyle. After the short moments of bliss following the orgasm he finally seized the younger man's hot member and massaged it quickly.

"Now." He whispered in his ear, his voice still fogged by the pleasure he had just experienced. " _Come for me_!"

And in a plaintive moan followed by a series of gasping sighs, Kyle came. With a last possessive trust, Finley get out of him, wiping his sperm covered hand on his partner's thigh and his blood-covered sex in a glove carelessly dropped to the floor.

"Make sure everything is ready. He repeated, throwing Kyle a last look over his shoulder after getting out of the shower and getting dressed.

Finley left the room without another word, leaving the young man curled and sited on the shower floor, his left hand hiding his right wrist, his legs and his feet covered with blood.

 

***

 

Leaving the parking, Finley quickly came to the front desk of the hotel but did not stop there, going directly to the elevator which would take him to his room. In the small compartment, a discreet music was heard and he waited while the small lights turn off and on in turn. The elevator finally landed on his floor and, walking lazily through the corridor, he dragged his briefcase up to his door before taking out his magnetic card from his back pocket. The system made a slight noise as he turned from red to green and grabbing again his briefcase, he opened the door and pulled off his hat. When he was about to put it on the coat-rack however, he stopped suddenly. Indeed, on it was hanging a jacket and this thing certainly didn’t belong to him! Wary and quick, he turned his head towards the inside of the suite. There, sitting at the table in the living-room, was a white-haired man easily reaching sixties wearing sunglasses and black cap. With a quick glance, he also noticed that two other persons – youngers but wearing the same things – were standing side by side a little in the back. Between them was then Kyle, silent and motionless.

"Oh... I didn’t know you were coming today!” He said putting on an indifferent mask before stepping towards the table.

"Sit down, we have to talk. The man told him and swiftly Finley grabbed the other chair to sit on it.

In front of him, Finley saw one of the two other strangers present in the room smile at his fellow as he passed his gloved fingers through Kyle's hair. Said Kyle who didn’t seem to react or notice at all, his eyes flickering only faster than usual.

"Would you like some refreshments before we start this discussion?" He asked as his guest opened his mouth to speak. "It seems to me that I still have a bottle of French wine in the minibar, gift of the hotel. "

The man looked at him for a moment impassively, then a smirk came up his thin lips.

"Indeed, a glass of wine would be welcome.” Thus he replied.

“Kyle!” Finley called with a voice devoid of any emotion after nodding his head to the man. “Bring the wine!"

A faint sound of friction and a plaintive sound was his only answer and Finley's gaze flew towards Kyle. The brown-haired man's shoulders had become motionless again after trying to move and the person who was not touching his hair held his wrists in the back with more force, while with his left hand, she pressed more firmly her gun on his temple. Kyle then gave the archeologist a fearful look before lowering his eyes to the floor once more. Finley questioned silently the man seated in front of him, and after making a face, displeased, he gestured with his hand.

The two people pulled away at that sign, leaving their hostages free to move, and under the watchful eyes of Finley the brown man went straight to pick up the two cups provided on the tray before putting then on the table, facing the two men. The archeologist then stared at his old companion and found that he was watching Kyle with an amused expression.

His roommate already was serving them the drink, but his hand was trembling so much that the wine threatened to fall at any moment and Finley gave him a warning glance as he poured the red liquid in each glass and took a few steps back, his right hand unusually pressed against his chest.

"It's Kyle then...?" The white-haired man commented dryly with a raised eyebrow and a sneer.

To this question Finley only nodded and the man snickered again before looking to his cup, grabbing and patting it before holding the glass out. Without waiting Kyle poured more wine and visible to everyone, the bottle shook violently, his liquid flowing disgracefully despite the efforts of the young man to stop shivering.

"I really don’t understand why you insist on keeping this… thing.” His guest declared, almost in rhetoric.

Sighing, Finley raised his glass too to be served and brought it to his lips to drink once it was done.

"You sent me an email.” Finally began the man looking at him seriously. "Where you told me that you were going to leave this site, do you have anything to say about it...?"

Finley, staring at the red liquid in his glass, considered thoughtfully his answer. He thought about not answering, about making up an excuse. Finally, he looked up at the other and told him nothing but the truth, since he knew that the lies were useless with that man.

"As I said in this message, I want to abandon the research.” He explained his eyes not leaving those in front of him. "But only in this country. Here, there is only rumors and nonsense, nothing worth. "

Faced with the lack of reaction of the man who was still silently watching him, Finley began to move uncomfortably in his chair, losing the assurance he had wished to give himself.

"But I will continue to search elsewhere.” He tried to amend before drinking a sip of wine to fill the silence that followed.

The other man remained silent for a moment more, then took a deliberate breath.

"When I arrived, I saw the hotel service has brought your meal, would you like to share it with me?”

“Kyle!” Called Finley as he gave a practiced smile to his guest. “What's on dinner tonight?”

“M-meat and... vegetables... " stuttered the asked watching his feet.

Finley caught a glimpse of the white-haired man staring dangerously at Kyle, who still had his eyes lowered, and then called his guest to divert his attention and make sure of his satisfaction.

"Is that good for you?" He asked and the other only nodded. "Bring the dinner Kyle. "

The brown-haired man made no reply but did as he was told as usual and, taking the two plates on the tray, he put in it the shared of food gave for two. Having done so, he went to present those before the unexpected guest and Finley, then moving away from the table again.

"Roasted lamb and green beans." The white-haired man stated staring at his dish before spelling louder. “ _Roasted lamb and green beans_!”

“R-roasted lamb and... gr-green beans.” Tried to repeat Kyle stammering.

“I really don’t know why you keep him...” Sighed Finley's guest. “He’s not even able to present a dish correctly!"

Finley, wisely, chose not to answer that and began to eat.

A few moments passed thus, the two men eating calmly, but soon one of the two persons with glasses and cap approached the old man hesitantly.

"What do you want?" The man then grunted out at him displeased.

“We want this...” Answered the person with a small nod in the direction of Kyle before looking at his shoes and smiling slightly. “We like it... It's cute."

Finley, just finishing his mouthful of lamb, completely ignored the panicked look that Kyle gave him as well as his palling face and stared aggressively at the person who had just spoken.

"It is not for you to possess it. " He sentenced coldly looking at the person who, under his intense gaze, seemed to want to disappear into the ground.

“Come on, let them have a bit of fun.” Argued suddenly the white-haired man in a conciliatory tone. “They have proved quite useful and enjoyable lately."

Finley pretended not to see Kyle staring at him with wide pleading eyes, and for a moment, he met his guest's eyes. He was firm and assured, a slight smile curving his lips and Finley knew he couldn’t make him change his mind, he couldn’t refuse him what he asked. Deliberately, he placed his cutlery on the edge of the plate with calm and slowness then grabbed his cup of wine in the same way. Bringing it to his lips, he finally stopped.

"No gunshot wounds or broken limbs.” He warned, his lips and teeth rubbing against the glass of his cup.

“Understood?” Said in a ominous tone the man with white hair to his two companions. “Go now!”

“Yes Mâchanâz.” Answered the person who had pointed the gun at Kyle, his back straight. “Thank you Mâchanumâz. "

At those words Kyle, who was still staring desperately at Finley, opened his mouth to speak, but the archaeologist gave him such a looming look that his words remained stuck in his throat. The person having touched his hair pushed him, taking him roughly toward the bedroom while the other person followed. The door was closing then, and Finley caught a last glimpse of Kyle’s imploring eyes, before it was closed completely. The glass still on his lips, he drank a good amount of it, wondering if he would succeed in choking himself with it considering how tense he was, his jaw clenched.

In front of him, his guest began to eat again and, trying to keep his composure, Finley ignored the noises that were beginning to be heard from the room and did the same.

"Have you only advanced in your personal research...?" Asked his guest after a moment when the only sound heard was tinkling cutlery and muffled sounds.

“No.” Finley admitted half-heartedly. “But I'm close to discovering the location.”

“Hm.” Voiced the man unconvinced before eating a new mouthful of meat. “If you stop searching on this site what will you do next...?"

Before he could answer, a loud noise came. The door of the room seemed to open for a second, but then it closed again with the same violence and then nothing more. Finley stared at the door with his teeth grinding with rage, but the next moment, he blinked and redirected his attention to his companion, his tone neutral and face impassive.

"Start a new one.” He replied, his voice inexpressive. “Confirm the few tracks I have. "

The man in front of Finley sighed and returned to his meal. Bangs and others dull noises came from the room but Finley could not hear them. Calmly, he continued to eat. Chew, swallow, chew, swallow.

Then the two men finished eating and, after another moment of silence, the white-haired man fixing Finley and Finley fixing his remaining wine, the sixty-year-old man finally spoke with a tired but compassionate tone.

"Very well..." he conceded calm. "Start another site if you think it's the good thing to do but don’t linger too long, you know I'll need you."

Without giving him time to respond, he then walked toward the bedroom door and twice knocked firmly. All sounds coming from the room had ceased since a moment already and at the knock, the two people who accompanied him left the room and closed the door, pleased smiles were on their faces which only made Finley angrier still. The man then came back to him and Finley stood up to greet him.

"This evening was very nice but I have to leave now.” He said. “I understand that you must find what belongs to you but don’t forget your first task.”

“Never.” Affirmed Finley, holding the man's gaze, and, after an uncertain moment, taking his hand in his and pressing his lips on each of the rings that adorned the chubby fingers.

After that, the man nodded and left the suite followed by his two companions as Finley sat down.

He sat for longs moments burning with anger but finally got up and the impulse was so strong that the chair was thrown back on several meters. Moving towards the room, he stopped suddenly and diverted almost mechanically to the bathroom. Searching into the cupboard under the sink, he grabbed some bandages and salve. Leaving the bathroom and pushing the door of the bedroom, he then stopped to contemplate the scene before him.

Some of the furniture, like the lamps or night tables, had been knocked down and the sheets on the bed where Kyle was sleeping were nothing more but a bundle of smelly covers. At the back of the sacked room, lining against a wall was Kyle himself, shaking violently and knees drawn to himself, his arms covering his face.

When the young man realized Finley's presence, he froze, stopping his repetitive rocking back and forth, his shivers nearly dying too

"You disgust me.” Hissed furiously Finley as he stared at the curled form a few feet away from him, whom was seized by another shudder as his voice sounded. " _Stand_!"

For half a second, Kyle did not budge and Finley thought he had not heard him but, eventually, he slowly stood on his feet, turning to face him but his eyes were fixed on the floor. The archaeologist assessed the state in which his companion was. Covered with seed, his hair tangled and moist with sweat, the body showing all along red marks which were bruises to come, he was not good looking but the worst was his right wrist swollen purple that he kept protectively against his chest.

" _On the bed_ ! _Sit down_!” He nodded quickly his head toward the worn-out sheets, and Kyle quickly did as he was told.

Approaching the brown man once he was seated, he was careful not to come in contact with the soiled sheets and crouched at height with him while he was now staring at his knees and concealing his wounded wrist in his left hand.

After a moment, Finley grabbed the arm he was hiding pitifully and pulled it to him. With a cry of pain and surprise, Kyle tried to bring it back, but Finley's fist was closed firmly on him and he barely managed to move an inch.

The black-haired man then anchored his eyes for longs seconds, demanding and hostile. Finley felt that he might lose the little calm that remained in him and, staring at the young man panicked look, tried to resist the anger that was waiting for him to press Kyle's arm with more force than was necessary, to further aggravate his wound. Perhaps irrevocably.

Then, as suddenly as he had tried to oppose Finley, the tension in Kyle's arm relaxed and his fingers extended completely, surrendering.

"Hm..." Finley whispered to himself ignoring the useless pained groans of his roommate as he moved and turned the hand to see the extent of the damage. "Your wrist is broken. I'm going to put some salve on it and fix it with bandages now but we'll have to find someone to heal it correctly."

Satisfied with his observation, he started to apply pomade into his hands and spread it on Kyle's hand and wrist. The brown-haired man continued to wine under his touch but it was the least of his worries and, once the balm was applied, the archaeologist began to cover Kyle's hand with tight bands as he spoke again.

"When I'm done with your wrist, I want you to pick up the dirty dishes and the sheets, too..." he began in a tone which broke no argument. "Or you can sleep in your soiled covers tonight I don’t care. "

He paused to look at him intently and his companion nodded quickly to show that he had understood. He continued then.

"But tomorrow," he continued, with a clear warning. "I want you clean and neatly dressed. Also clean up this mess. In a few days, you will prepare my baggage, I will book a flight and we’ll leave."

He looked up at Kyle, the bandage now correctly putted on.

"Understood?” He pressed dangerously.

Kyle nodded, his eyes apprehensive, but after a moment he hurriedly answered.

"Yes, Mâchanâz.” He stammered, lowering his eyes only when Finley turned away from him.

Finley, in fact, had straightened and made some uncertain steps through the room. Finally, he seized his cushion and blankets, placing them under his arm.

"Open this window, the smell is unbearable.” He added as he was now to the door. "And go to bed, we have a long day tomorrow."

With these last words, Finley closed the door with finality and throwing cushions and blankets on the sofa, he too dropped on it to fall asleep shortly after.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos are nice, comments are interesting, see you on next chapter !


	10. What is but one year ?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you have a new chapitre, enjoy !
> 
> Note : Glorfindel and the twins are speaking sindarin so I use sindarin version of the names and words.

Glorfindel was not nervous. No. Sitting on a white chair smelling antiseptic, he looked in front of him and did not move. Near him, in this room colors so pale that one would have thought he was looking at a worn garment washed too many times, was Elrohir – or Elly Reed for outsiders – sated in a chair too, wearing the same knitted Yellow tshirt and black trousers than the day before.  
Both were motionless, and Glorfindel recalled gloomily the recent events. Again there were the dead, again the detonations sounded in his ears and the blood stained the ground... Then this shadow was here, undoubtedly present and real, just at the limit of his perception...

Facing him, Elrohir, who was also immersed in the dark rets of his mind, had his head in his hand, gazing at the hospital bed beside him letting it go from his vision only when he had to blink. His black hair had a bushy appearance, his eyeliner, eyeshadow and dark lipstick that he had tried to apply several times yet had sunk or overflowed.

“| _Elrondion..._ |" Glorfindel began uncomfortably before the man turned his attention to him and making him forget about any word he had might had wanted to say. 

The black-haired elf looked at him for a moment, as if in a daze, his eyes swollen and injected with blood, but quickly turned away to stare at the bed again, as if he had to look so it didn’t disappear.

"| _You told me yourself that he is in a better state now..._ |" The Noldo reminded him as calmly as possible to try to comfort his friend. "| _He is strong, he will recover..._ |” 

At these, Elrohir turned quickly toward the fair-haired elf.

“| _What do you know about it?_ |” He retorted, looking at him with resentment. 

To say that Lauriefindil was surprised by this reaction was saying understatement. Uncertain, he sought a possible answer that would appease the half-elf but before he could find one, Elrohir spoke again.

“| _What do you know about the healing ability of peredhil?!_ |” He replied with the same venom in his voice. “| _What do you know about_ our _ability?!_ |" 

Glorfindel again try to say something but the half-elf finally put his head in his hands and spoke, escaping a frustrated moan.

“| _Forgive me..._ |” He said with an exhausted sigh, already regretting what he had said. “| _He lost a lot of blood and if he does not wake I..._ | " 

The son of Elrond left the end of his sentence unsaid but neither of the elves wished to heard it and even think about the other possibility so the blonde elf nodded in mutual understanding.

The two friends remained silent after this and Glorfindel would have started if he had not heard steps approaching before knocks were given on the door. Elrohir, on his part, did not react until the noise came.

Discreetly, a woman in a blue tunic entered the room and Laurefindil watched her, suspicious.

"His condition has not changed..." Elrohir stated blankly without even looking at the newcomer.

"Well, are you sure you do not want to allow a transfusion?" The brown woman asked, looking a little irritated. “This would allow him to get out of the hospital more quickly and continue the care at home.”

“No.” He said simply. “When he wake we will leave.”

"It's probably your brother's only chance to stay alive!" Finally loosed the nurse with content for the lack of common sense that the brown elf was showing and not seeming to notice Glorfindel, who still sat on the chair, was staring dangerously at her, his hands clenched on the armrests. “How can you refuse this care ?!”

"I will not allow any blood to be given to him!" Countered the half-elf  loosing his nerves too and rising to his full height, intimidating despite his sunken make-up and worn clothes.

Fuming, the woman gave him a last look of reproach and disgust before quickly leaving the room. The Noldo then wanted to ask his friend what the brown woman had said but a moan coming from the bed stopped him and the eyes of the two elves converged as one towards the person lying in it.  
Under the full attention of the half-elf who had seized his hand and the Noldo who now stood at the foot of the bed, Elladan slowly awoke from his sleep.

“| _A... Adar...?_ |” Came his sleepy voice. 

"| _El..._ |” Breathed Elrohir, his voice suddenly hoarse, shaken by the first word his brother had uttered when he woke. 

“| _El..._ |” The eldest of the twins repeated a smile on his lips. 

“| _Yes my Brother... wake up..._ |” Say softly the gothic while stroking his twin’s fingers with his thumb. 

“| _Where are we...?_ |” Then confusedly asked the other twin his eyes blinded. “| _What happened…?_ |” 

“| _We are in the_ | hospital,” said Elrohir calmly, “| _there was an attack, you were hurted.._ . |” 

Elladan frowned not knowing what Elrohir was talking about or why he was so formal with him, but suddenly the memories of what had happened came back to him and he tried to straighten himself up, observing his surroundings and noticing for the first time Glorfindel's presence. The blond nodded slightly, relieved to see that his friend was really conscious.

“| _Did they take my blood?_ |” Suddenly asked the brown twin. 

“| _No._ |” The other replied in a soothing voice.

“| _Have they..._ |” 

“| _I did not give any authorization for blood transfers either._ |” Also assured Elrohir gently pushing one of the tangled hair of his brother out of his face. 

“| _An authorization for blood transfer...?_ | Intervened Laurefindil not understanding. | _What are you talking about Elrondion...?_ | 

The twins both turned to Noldo and the black haired answered.

“| _Advances in healing and medication now make it possible to introduce blood into the body of a person in need_ . | He explained. 

“| _But Elrohir and I,_ | Continued Elladan, | _are not compatible with human blood, however strange it may be._ | 

Laurefindil nodded to show his understanding and the younger brother spoke again.

“| _When the healer arrives, we will ask for the authorization and leave._ |” He repeated to his brother, who nodded his head in agreement.  
  
“| _Why not ask for his coming...?_ |” Proposed Glorfindel and Elladan showed his approval by a new nod of his head.

“| _But..._ |” Opposed the gothic reluctantly. 

“| _I will watch over your brother._ |” Promised Laurefindil. 

“| _Excuse me?!_ |” The subject of discussion was startled. | _I do not need to be watched!_ | 

Elrohir and Glorfindel looked at each other for a moment, seemingly ignoring the protest of the elder half-elf, and the black-haired twin finally nodded before leaving the room, not before throwing a last glance to his brother.

The two friends then remained alone in the room and after a moment, Elladan addressed the noldorin  elf hesitantly.

“| _How do you feel Lord Glorfindel?_ |” He asked, scrutinizing him cautiously. “| _You were not hurt, were you?_ |” 

To this question, Laurefindil raised an incredulous blond eyebrow, a bit amused despite the situation.

“| _If my common sense is not lacking, you are in bed not I._ |” He remarked with a smile. “| _So I think you should answer this question_ . |” 

“| _I am lying in this bed after receiving care and not lying on a cold ground in the middle of inert bodies,_ | Elladan said in a neutral voice, ignoring the shudder that what he had just described caused to his friend. | _So I think I have a right to inquire about your health._ | 

“| _I was worried, yes_ . | Admitted Glorfindel consciously minimizing the state of panic in which he had been with his former student unmoving in his arms. | _But fortunately, the human healers, once arrived, knew how to keep you alive until your transport in this... Healing House._ |" 

Far from being satisfied with this evasive answer, Elladan wanted to ask his friend another question but was interrupted by Elrohir who entered the room swiftly, followed by a man in white tunic looking serious but frustrated. As they entered, Glorfindel turned around, immediately staring at the unknown man and keeping him in in his field of vision. Immobile, he did not make a gesture, he took no aggressive posture but did not take his eyes off the man.

"Mr. Adrian Reed?" Asked the doctor before throwing a glance at the blonde elf and massaging his neck.

He received a confirmation from Elladan and he continued.

"Your brother has expressed his refusal to give you a transfusion," he said in a professional voice, whilst sounding a bit discontent, "are you in agreement with this decision ?"

Elladan nodded.

"Are you aware of the risks to which you are exposed by refusing this care...?” Continued the doctor, disapprovingly.

Again there was confirmation and the brown twin put his head on the shoulder of his brother, feeling suddenly exhausted and heavy.

"Very well.” Finally gave up the man with white tunic. "You will still have to sign a document stating that you have refused our help at some point."

Again the elder brother silently expressed his consent, and the doctor then directed a long, preoccupied look at Elladan and another furtive at Glorfindel who still had not took his eyes off him before leaving the room.

With the necessary papers and formalities completed, the doctor left the room once more, and Laurefindil followed him with his eyes until he passed through the door. The doctor returned a moment later with a wheelchair which he had nevertheless recommended. With his help, the Noldo and the son of Elrond were able to safely put the sleepy brown elf in it and the doctor finally went away, not without giving a last worried look over his shoulder towards Glorfindel. Then, going out into the corridor, the three elves slowly took the way to the exit.

Along the way, Elladan suddenly seemed to be detailing his brother.

"You're badly dressed and your makeup sunk. He remarked with the spontaneity of a person between sleep and awakening.

“You’re surely dreaming!” Elrohir replied  smiling amusingly at his twin despite the fatigue. I'm always in fashion!"

Not feeling the strength to laugh, Elladan produced a scoff of uncertain meaning and the elves then continued to walk in silence.  


***

  
The sun was shining and the weather was good at Bears Den Ranch. Yet the two masters had locked themselves in Adrian's room with the new inhabitant of the place, taking with them a lot of dishes cooked by the chef as well as sodas and other foods. For their discussion, kept secret of the staff of the Ranch, the residents had also brought the laptop of Elly, wish was going to be at the center of their attention for their research. Several times the employees of the property had tried to spy – out of pure curiosity and for taste of gossip – but had not succeeded and while on the first floor the employees guessed on what were doing Adrian and Elly Reed in the company of this blond man, on the second floor a different discussion was going on.

“| _We have been searching for weeks and have not found more than this ridiculous track of... monster scaring beachgoers..._ |” Lightly sighed the eldest son of Elrond, while the gothic seated cross-legged was his improvised cushion and was slowly passing his hand through his hair. 

“| _No now, we must have missed something..._ |” Elrohir replied with his best smile, refusing to be caught in depressive humor of the other two. “| _Let's summarize won't you ? What do we know_ ? |” 

“| _The Edhil had to flee from Dor Rodyn._ |” Proposed Glorfindel feeling an unpleasant feeling creeping in him at these words. 

“| _If really edhil have arrived in Ennorath, they can be found everywhere and not only in_ | United States.” Resonated the younger brother. 

“| _And the sources of information do not cover all occurrences occurring in a country._ |” Supported Elladan. 

“| _When you were at_ | San Francisco | _I followed the information of several | newspapers | from different countries._ |” Then confessed the gothic. “| _But I have found nothing about our research for now._ |”

“| _It is true that with the facts of the last mounth we only have been searching for a few weeks,_ |” Conceded the brown elf, “| _but in truth we do not even know where to look..._ |” 

“| _If you could tell us more about what happened... Maybe we could find some tracks..._ | Elrohir said uncomfortably before grimacing, realizing the meaning of what he had just asked. 

The blonde elf looked at his friend for a moment and then took an inspiration.

“| _We were a group... In reality just survivors trying to live.._ . |” Explained Laurefindil, with a poor smile not deceiving any of the twins. “| _We resisted... For the land we know... There were all origins but mostly Vanyar, you see...? But all this was in vain, we barely held a year... Then Morgoth and his Maiar found us and.._ . |" 

Here Glorfindel paused, seeing then the eyes of the half-elves shining with hope.

“| _I did not saw your parents._ |” He said regretfully before Elrohir – apparently speaking for the twins this time – could utter a word. 

At this revelation, the two brothers froze, cold and Elladan instinctively went to find his little brother's hand to squeeze it. Laurefindil himself felt uneasy when he thought of Lord Elrond and his wife, he really hoped that they were alive and safe...

“| _But that does not mean they are not safe._ |” He hastened to add. “| _Lord Elrond is a warrior more than able to defend himself and I do not think that Lady Celebrian, daughter of the Lady of Lórien can be described as harmless._ |" 

In part reassured by their friend's words, the moment of panic of the twins seemed to pass and Elladan left the hand of his brother. But Elrohir, now with his hands free, began to twist them nervously as the brown twin cuddled a little closer to him, imperceptibly.

“| _Maybe there were other groups...?_ |” Nervously asked the younger son of Elrond after a moment. 

“| _We had taken refuge in the ruins of Formenos._ |” Related slowly the Noldo after a moment of reflection, his mind far away. “| _Some of us were chosen to lead expeditions to find food and what was needed to survive but we never met other groups of edhil, only packs of disorganized beasts and..._ |" 

Glorfindel did not finish his sentence, and, troubled, shook his head.

“| _It's strange..._ |” Elrohir said disturbed, seeing that his friend was saying nothing more. “| _Why pursue such unplanned actions...?_ |” 

“| _Yes why… ?_ |” Repeated Elladan, casting a look at his brother before turning hesitantly towards his friend. “| _If the Oppressor really has control over the Immortal Lands as you say, why would he attack you this late...?_ |" 

Glorfindel shrugged his shoulders and then sunk into himself.

“| _Perhaps we were no longer enough a large number to be a worry for his designs._ |” He replied gloomily. 

Long moments seemed to pass then, the three elves full in dark through then Elladan spoke again.

“| _All this makes no sense to me..._ |” He said with frustration. “| _If we do nothing, the few survivors to the armies of the Black Foe will not last long in Middle Earth but we can not hope to cover all their arrival in the countries of the world over the last twelve months..._ |” 

“| _The last twelve months...?_ |” Laurefindil repeated not understanding. 

Then suddenly the words took meaning in his mind and he then looked at the twins with a new eye, as if he rediscovered the presence of his friends in the room.

“| _Since the taking of the Aman a year is indeed gone,_ | Said Glorfindel contrite. | _But a Balian year and not one of the Sun._ | 

“| _Elladan,_ |” Asked Elrohir turning towards his twin and questioning him, “| _What would be like a Balian year my Brother?_ |” 

“| _How do you want me to know?_ |” The asked answered, surprised by the question. 

“| _You know all of this!_ |” Replied the gothic with a slight shrug. 

“| _I do not !_ |” Answered the other twin stubbornly. 

“| _But you can speak quenya!_ |” Pointed out the younger brother who could not help but smile a bit despite the situation. 

“| _That does not mean that..._ |” 

“| _If you hope to cover the duration between the taking of Aman and the arrival of edhil on Middle Barth Elrondionnath,_ |” Explained the Noldo now confused by the brothers, “| _you would have to extend your research on some ten spring of these lands._ |” 

There was an astonishing silence at this and the discouragement was again strongly felt, becoming an emotion almost palpable. But as all were in complete silence, Elrohir spoke suddenly with a dejected sigh, breaking the heavy and quiet ambiance that had settled down.

“| _If only we had some tracks..._ |” Elrohir said softly finally won by the depressing mood of his companions and not really knowing to whom he was speaking. “| _A clue..._ | " 

Another moment passed, all remaining silent then, Laurefindil – putting an end to a terrible internal debate – decided to speak again.

“| _I..._ |” He began uneasily. “| _I think I saw one..._ |" 

Two pairs of identical green eyes then turned to him questioningly and another interruption – stunned this time – followed the statement.

“| _You saw an edhel...?_ |” Wanted to be sure Elrohir looking dumbfounded and he received a nod from his blond friend. 

“| _Are you certain...?_ | Then asked Elladan, between surprise and disbelief. 

“| _Yes._ |” Laurefindil asserted before looking away. “| _No..._ |” 

“| _I do not understand,_ |” Interrupted the twin with black hair confused, “| _did you or did you not saw an edhel...?_ |” 

“| _I saw a silhouette that had the bearing of one of our people,_ |” Answered the blond _looking a little unsure, “| and she looked alive..._ |” 

“| _Well,_ |” then the gothic seemed to regain courage, “| _we only need to look for some documentation on the attack of the | shopping center | and perhaps we could also ask some newspapers or consult with professionals of the informations as well..._ |"   
Elrohir stopped when he noticed the uncertain look of Glorfindel and gave him a silent interrogation. 

“| _I saw her but... she had with her one of those weapons with which the enemies attacked..._ | Laurefindil began with anguish and confusion in the voice. | _And when she used it and you were hurt I..._ | 

“| _Then this person – whoever she is – can not be an edhel._ |” Elladan quickly said suddenly pale. 

“| _I am of the same opinion._ |” Confirmed without hesitation Elrohir taking again the hand of his brother in his own and beginning to caress his hair again. “| _Why would an edhel show such cruelty to innocents people...?_ |” 

“| _I ask myself this same question Elrondionnath._ |” Glorfindel admitted, nodding his head. “| _And the absurdity of this possibility makes me doubt what I saw..._ |”

“| _Maybe..._ |” Spoke suddenly Elladan in slow and forced words, “| _if we were to try to understand precisely how the facts unfolded... with_ | videos | _for example, this would put us on the trail of the person whom Lord Glorfindel saw..._ |” 

“| _This will not be happening._ |” Cut Elrohir with the speed of a blade splitting air. “| _I will not let you see such images!_ |” 

“| _It is true that searching for informations about the attack could be useful to us,_ | Admitted Glorfindel going from one to the other twin and choosing his words carefully. “| _but I do not think you should use the thin Palantir for it..._ |” 

“| _What is happening to you two?_ | Elladan snapped as he straightened up to look at them. “| _I feel more than able to view a few pictures. Moreover, this is the only way we have at the moment if we hope to find someone alive, so do you not think we should try it...?_ |" 

Glorfindel looked at his brown friend, asking himself if he could bear to see the dead and enemies again, then accepted in a small determined nod. Elladan then looked up at his brother, exchanging a long glance with him. Elrohir nodded  blankly and then grabbed the laptop and placed it so the three elves could see the screen.

“| _Let's go._ |"


	11. Uncle Peter is dead !

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here come the next chapter! Sorry for the wait I was unsure about this one and it's not betareaded yet so all things weird are mine.
> 
> IMPORTANT: This chapter have some sexual interaction between animal and human if you don't like it, better skip it (It will be the only one with that kind of warning).
> 
> The tags have changed to include the warning in the notes.
> 
> Also, the emails are of course fake. Enjoy :)!

Entering the small apartment, Kyle closed the door behind him with a kick of his foot.  
He gave a look at the place: The entrance was directly leading to the living room with a comfortable dining table and, facing him, the bathroom and the bedroom were partially visible, the doors left ajar.

"What are you waiting for ?!" Finley asked suddenly startling him. "Get done with the luggage!"  
Holding on a bag in his left hand and loaded with another slung over his right shoulder, he did not wait for it to be repeated twice and went to the room, finding the wardrobe and storing the clothes, his right arm in a sling. Finley was in a very dark mood lately and Kyle had no desire to give him reason for anger...

When he had put in about half of the clothes, he heard his roommate approaching and, without fail, Finley entered the room. From the corner of his eye, the dark-haired man saw him go to the bed and remove the sheets violently.

"Seems we'll sleep in same bed this time..." He grumbled and Kyle silently asked himself if it was really an error from the hotel. "Where’s my computer?!”

Leaving aside the trousers he was trying to fold, the brown man opened the other bag he had left near and quickly removed the laptop with its charger.

"Hm..." Grunted aggressively the archeologist before taking the object from his hands and nodding toward the baggage. "Hurry up finish that, we’ve some shopping to do!"

Kyle nodded quickly and nervously returned to folding the pants.

With the clothes properly tidied up, he then walked to the bathroom and, placing the shampoos and other necessities in the shower, cupboards and sink, he finished quickly.

He hesitated then. From where he was, he could hear his mate mumbling in the dining room and Kyle was more and more distressed by his bad mood. It made him doubt what he should do next.

Finally, he left the room slowly and, approaching without a sound, waited in silence for Finley to notice his presence. After another moment of grumbling and cursing, Finley finally looked up at him and Kyle, staring at his feet, felt his eyes weigh on him.

"What do you want ?!” He asked irritably.

“The... The... luggage are properly stored Mâchanâz.” Whispered the young man.

The black-haired man sighed and snapped his laptop shut, making Kyle start again.

"Let's go!” He said grudgingly before grabbing his wallet and car keys, heading for the exit, Kyle rushing behind him.

  
**

With his arm out of the sling, the brown man had put it down as he pushed the cart into the shelf of the supermarket while Finley got the products they needed. In a rare moment of kindness, the archaeologist helped Kyle load the purchases into the trunk of the car once the shopping was over and they then left the parking lot.

Kyle was now following his roommate back in the apartment and, closing behind them, he hastened to put the most important food in the refrigerator and the others things in the cupboards. Meanwhile, Finley sat at the table with his computer to look at the photos taken from the archaeological site he had worked on in Egypt while mumbling and, when Kyle began to gather in the small kitchen all he needed to cook lunch, the archaeologist was still in front of his screen seething.

Cooking spaghettis, he glanced at the other man who was now hitting his fist on the table – mood worsening – and finally redirected his attention to the tomato sauce, stirring it nervously.

Finally, the meal was ready and, going to ask permission and receiving a growl that he hoped to be an affirmative answer, Kyle served the Bolognese pasta. Finley next to him began to eat, the attention still partially turned to his computer and stroking with the mouse.

After a moment, Kyle sat silently in front of him and, putting the splint in front of him, began to undo and adjust it to his arm becoming sweaty and numb.

"What are you doing?! Brock suddenly Finley's voice in the quietude of the room and Kyle froze.

Eyes fixed on the splint, he moved his left hand slowly and came to lay it flat on the table, waiting.

A few minutes went on – a long time for the young man – until Finley released an annoyed sigh. He then proceeded to turn off the computer but, while he was putting the USB out, the engine emitted a sound. Kyle discreetly raised his eyes to see Finley frown and check the page of his mailbox that he had left open.

There were some pubs from the morning and then a new message from some "WhiteCat", opening this email, he read.

 

 

From: WhiteCat@gmail.com

To: blue-crocodile326@hotmail.com

Cc:

Subject: Come hack, quick!

PJ:

 

Uncle Peter is dead. We bury him on Saturday. We were supposed to get something when he died but it seems that there is a problem with the inheritance...

 

This shit sucks, get here already!

 

 

 

Finley's fork in the spaghettis, was reduced to a deformed scrap. Rising suddenly, the man grabbed the computer and sent it crashing on the wall behind Kyle who had withdrawn fearfully and did not move anymore; even hoping to blend into the furniture if only it could make Finley continue to ignore his presence...

After the laptop, the plate too, came flying against another wall and pastas soon completed the disaster.

"FUCKING SHIT!” Started screaming the archeologist tearing his hair and pacing around the room, enraged. "THIS IS NOT HAPPENING!... IT JUST CAN'T!"

He turns to the disaster of broken plate and tomato sauce without really seeing it and give a violent kick for good measure. Kyle silently tried to quell a tremor and gave him a frightened look as he continued to shout

"PIECES OF SHIT...!” He shouted angrily. "...USLESS...!"

He retraced his steps and continued to storm out near Kyle, who, helpless, started to move nervously his splint.

"JUST THING! ONE!... " Finley continued his monologue more and more inflamed.

He broke off suddenly and his fist collided with the table, going thought it as if simple sheet of paper and sending pieces of wood around with a loud noise. Letting out a furious sigh, he withdrew his hand and rubbed his bloody joints repetitively.

"IF ONLY I FOUND... IF..." Having started screaming again, he suddenly froze, his body twitching nervously, and Kyle's anxious look went again in his direction.

Under the eyes of the brown man – who stared down quickly – the archaeologist turned slowly towards him, almost motionless.

"YOU!” Then pointed Finley with an accusing finger. "YOU!..."

In a breath, the archaeologist was at Kyle, grabbing him brutally by the hair.

"YOU ARE A LITLLE SHIT!” He screamed at his face painfully tightening his hold and Kyle closed his eyes, pale. "YOU ARE SUPOSED TO HELP ME BUT YOU’RE A WASTE!”

“I'm sorry...!” Said hurriedly the brown man, the forced position of his head making breathing difficult and Finley's hot-heretic breath coming to his face.

“YOU ARE SORRY ?!” He roared before throwing the man forward violently and making him collided with the wall full force. “SORRY?!"

Kyle collapsed to the ground, escaping a groan under the stinging sensation of his face and his wrist still hurting. But he did not want to stay there, did not want to leave Finley out of his eyes so he got up and watched the dark-haired man turn again to him. Then his nose, just as hot as his face, began to drip and Kyle sniffed without dropping his stare.

"Sorry..." the archaeologist repeated before giving a mocking – grating – laugh. "Arrg..."

Trembling and pale as death, Kyle looked at the black-haired man with more fear yet – if that was possible – while he was supporting himself, his hands on the half-destroyed table, head tilted forward and shaking with more and more violent spams.

"Too late... Ahh..." Grunted Finley in a hoarse and deformed voice before turning to him. "GO AWAY!"

Then, in front of a fascinated Kyle, Finley – overwhelmed by convulsions – seemed to try and keep it in control like one would handle some blows. His breathing began to change at once, as if he had just run to exhaustion and his eyes dilated slowly to change the way they reflected light, turning in a bronze hue, spreading a halo, the orbits crying rivers of tears.

And Kyle stood there, leaning against the wall he'd come crashing down on a few moments ago, cold and unable to move.

Without even looking at him, Finley brought his shaking hands to his shirt in an attempt to pull out the buttons but in a tearing sound, the cloth ended on the floor. Immediately, the trousers and underwear joined it on the ground and the black-haired man – now naked – leaned back on the table again. Under the eyes of his brown companion, his struggle continued and Finley started to sweat while the temperature of the room seem to increased.

Kyle stared helplessly at Finley hitting what was left of the table with the flat of his hand, again and again... Then growling and groaning in pain, atrocious sounds that ended up terrifying him, until he had to put his hands on his face to block out what he knew was coming.

Shortly after, however, he looked at Finley again with morbid fascination, the fear forcing him to watch: From the body of his roommate emanated now a suffocating heat as he dripped with sweat and, under his skin, he could see the muscles and bones move, reshape, almost like clay, the transformations punctuated by long hoarse cries.

The moment never seemed to end, and gradually Finley's screams became strange as his mouth cavity changed. At the same time, a white and abundant fur began to cover his body, more and more present, until no ounce of skin was visible. And Finley rocked back and forth, writhing, his new fur blooming, swelling, _pulsating_.

On his coccyx a bulk could now be seen and was growing, stretching in length, a living membrane covered in new hairs. Higher up, his nails, teeth, and ears – the last having moved to the top of his head – became longer and pointy. His nose was also bearing transmutation, widening; recoiling or advancing to better match with the new recomposed face; modifying the constitution of bones and nostrils as simply as one would clear a clumsy line on white paper.

Finally, the commotion seemed to stop; the struggle to end and, looking at Finley at that moment, Kyle did not see a man with dark hair and tanned skin anymore but instead a tall, white and long-haired wolf; an imposing creature, towering over him and standing on its back legs, almost upright.

He escaped a strangled cry.

It was his mistake.

Alerted, the beast turned quickly toward the noise and anchored his predatory eyes on him. Emitting a squeak almost curious, the animal then watched him carefully before approaching and Kyle closed his eyes, pressed against the wall. Soon, he felt the thing was right in front of him, arms blocking any escape. He did not move. _He must not move_.

A few moments passed in a dreadful wait, then he perceived a movement and a soft hairy hand came to rest on his cheek, the long claws grazing his skin just enough to cause tingling. The young man exhaled brutally through his nose as he clenched his fists, fingernails tearing skin. He tried to convince himself to stay motionless, but a warm tongue that came to probe his cheek was enough to break his resolve and he started with an exclamation of fear, of revulsion.

 _Breathe_. He had to try and breathe. _Keep calm_.

The beast grunted again, like answering his cry with a squeak of its own and then began to lick his neck generously, to pass lasciviously his clawed hand-paw in his brown hair. Kyle bore it as best he could, accepted the foul breath and intimate touch of the animal; did not express any refusal despite his heart and blood beating madly in his chest and ears; did not move, despite his instinct, shouting at him in desperate cries to run, to flee. He simply kept his eyes closed and waited for the moment to pass; the time when Finley would return to his normal self. _He hoped_ that it would happen.

The beast continued to caress him shamelessly, the hair, the cheek, the neck and then the chest... And he remained motionless. He kept silent and repeated himself like a mantra that he just had to be patient. It seemed to work... Until, unconsciously, he sniffed, unable to contain his oozing nose anymore...

He froze then, realizing for the first time something very important: His nose was bleeding.

His nose _bled_.

And suddenly, he noticed that the wolf was not just licking at it, but sniffing, smelling the air...

"N-no...!” He protested weakly, turning his head away when the animal pressed his muscular, hairy body against his own; when he brought his nose close to his face to smell it. "You said... not to..."

The wolf seemed for a moment to consider him, intrigued – or perhaps thoughtful, Kyle was not sure if he could read his expression when he was in this state – then the sharp-clawed hand grabbed his jaw and – oh for goodness sake, even if he had wanted to resist, the thing was stronger than him... – his head was forced in his initial position, his frightened eyes finding again the fire-stare.

"Don’t do this..." he moaned miserably, his face trapped between the claws of the monster.

But it ignored him and, ever closer, came to breath a short complaint; very gently blowing in his ear; its drooling tongue picking blood running from the nose.

Kyle stopped breathing. Helpless, he saw the wolf's pupils dilate, felt its hairs bloom, its throat produces a low humming reverberated through all the form and translated to him, the musculature contract to attack, to hunt. Finally, the lungs of the beast swelled, squeezing Kyle's body yet more and, throwing its head back, it roared hungrily.

" _NO_!” Yelled the man adrenaline bolting in and taking by surprise the beast, releasing himself from the embrace in the process before retroceding

But the animal seemed angry – completely furious – and the young man's rejection had only made him more enraged. The Manifestation had turned and was now advancing on its prey, muscles tense, ready to bounce and attack.

Not thinking anymore, Kyle ran.

The wolf standing between the exit and him, he rushed into the nearest room that could protect him from the animal; the bathroom. He barely managed to slam the door behind him, putting in the lock before the thing came rushing, crashing into the door and shaking it to the hinges.

"Don’t do this!” Kyle screamed, his breath resounding in his ears and his back pressed against the door, a vain attempt to stop the half-wolf from entering. "Please, don’t!"

But the only answer he got was another blow, which made everything shake and, throwing himself against the door that still separated him from Finley, he tried again to placate him:

"I beg you…!” He pleaded his head against the wood. "I'm sorry... So sorry...!"

Silence came and Kyle held his breath, time itself seemed to have stopped. There was no sound anymore.

"Mâ... Mâchanâz...?” Kyle stammered after an endless moment of waiting, shaking all over but hoping that Finley had calmed down or returned to a human form.

There was suddenly a more violent impact and, as the wall stood on, the wolf's hairy arm got through the wood and tried to grab Kyle, who, with an cry, put himself out of reach, his breathing abruptly resuming a frantic pace.

" _M-MERCY_!” He begged helplessly. "I'll do anything!"

Another noise, another perforation, and he got away again, curling on the floor by the door.

"Mâchanâz...! MÂCHANÂZ!” He shouted in tears. " _MÂCHANÂZ_! _MÂCHANÂZ_! _MACHANÂZ_!"

Another offensive, the claws coming for his arm and, Kyle pulling it out of the door – not fast enough this time – received a deep cuts that tore out a hoarse scream of pain. Moving away, he crawled to the bath and sat down, holding his right arm against him. Another part of the door flew in wood chips and Kyle covered his head with both hands, moving it from left to right frantically.

" _No_! _NOOO_...! _FORGIVE ME_! He cried hysterically, shaking his head, his fingers clenched in despite the pain. " _I AM SORRY_ …!"

There was a new charge and the hinges finally snapped before the door came crashing down to the ground a second later.

Kyle stopped talking. Did not even dare to breathe; He raised his head very slowly towards the entrance of the room. The wolf-man was there, staring at him with his bestial and ruthless gaze. His sharp teeth tore the strange lips covering his mutant jaw, his breathing was roaring, enraged. In a breath, the beast was on him.

Kyle gave a last cry of pain and horror.

" ** _MERCYYYYYYY_**!"

 

*

 

_Pain. Everywhere! Or maybe not... Was it a voice calling to him...? Finally, the veil of darkness seemed to fade and he could see. But... But truly, everything was darkness, always black... and... In the nothingness, the wild eyes watched him..._

 

*

 

There was pain.

 _So much pain_.

He was exhausted and wanted to sleep... Yes, sleep was what he needed... –

 _No_! It was dark and... the eyes! Where were they...? They were always watching him, _always_ , so where were they now...?

His eyelids were heavy but after a moment he managed to open them – _he had to open them_ – and he closed them immediately blinded by too strong a light. He waited then, without moving, during long moments of agony where each movement caused him an atrocious pain and suffocated him, his infected wounds burning. Moaning, he felt the cold penetrate his bones and for that, tried to stay awake despite the pain and moisture of his clothes soaked in blood.

He finally managed to open his eyes and his vision cleared. Without waiting, he detailed the room, feeling hurt and anguished.

The walls were white. Light – coming from behind him – illuminated the room coldly. The floor on which Kyle was lying was inhospitable. It was icy... If he stayed there, immobile time enough, would he drain out of blood...? Would he fall asleep to never wake up again...?

"Where are you?” He heard suddenly, a voice saying out of his field of vision, startling him painfully.

Now he knew that no, he could not. He anxiously looked toward the entrance, to the fallen door and a strange crackling sound came to him. A few seconds passed then –

**_/ Where are you? /_ **

His head seemed to burst out. His eardrums vibrated and – not having the strength for more – he growled plaintively before sagging again on the cold, chilly ground. After a second, however, he closed his eyes and with a grimace of pain, moistened his lips; his mouth was so dry...

"Here..." he articulated in a hoarse whisper before attempting to speak louder. "I'm here!"

A moment. Footsteps sounded and a man with wild-black hair appeared on the doorstep.

Finley.

Fearfully Kyle stared at him before finally lowering his eyes and watching a puddle of dried blood on the floor.

"Pffff... Look at you..." Said the archaeologist in a bored voice. “What did I told you again and again...?”

"My blood..." He murmured painfully, his voice hoarse. “Not to...”

“Ah, enough...!” The other groaned before coming to kneel a few steps from Kyle, who was shaking and trying to curl on himself but stopping suddenly, expression distorted in pain. "Come."

Kyle opened his eyes again watching his companion with dread, not moving.

"Come on.” Finley repeated with an incredulous frown seeing that he did not move.

Kyle was in pain. But Kyle also knew it was better for him to do what the man asked. So, rising of the ground, his left – valid hand – helped him kneel, crawling to Finley who had seized his shoulders to help him progress. After some effort to keep going onward, the archaeologist drew him in and the brown man – feeling dizzy and weary – accepted his embrace; burying his hands in his shirt; closing his eyes, allowed by Finley.

Then slowly, the young man tried to gain control of himself, to let his breath calm while a hand was passed through his hair, again and again, instilling tranquility. Clearly, Kyle heard Finley humming despite his fogged state, and suddenly he heard other strange sounds.

Sliding, slamming, aspiring...

He kept his eyes closed.

 _He ignored them_.

When the cacophony of crackling and rattling finally seemed to end, Finley changed the rhythm – or resonance...? – of the song he hummed, and Kyle felt the warmth return to him. Slowly, the remote feeling he had faded and he was left with a clear sense of reality; of existence. His nausea and headache were also disappearing as time went on but he did not want to think, he closed his eyes and did not move, let himself be hugged and caressed for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year to all :)!


	12. All isn't truth, all isn’t trust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> So first, I want to say sorry for the time this chapter took me... Some things happened and left me a bit depressed and ruined my inspiration... But I’m back now and no, this story is not dead :)!
> 
> I'm not sure about some details in this chapter but anyway, enjoy!
> 
> *This is not betareaded yet so any mistakes are mines*

“| _So, this proves identity..._ | Laurefindil slowly stated, observing the strange little pieces in his hands, handwritten and painted. “| _And this other one... gives access to current money...?_ |"

His black-haired friend nodded enthusiastically.

“| _Exactly!_ |” He said with his usual good mood. “| _With this, you officially exist in the eyes of the world and can be provided with everything you need._ |”

“| _Yes... Remind me again what is this second name that you chose in these new lands Elrondionnath ...?_ |” Glorfindel asked with a puzzled and thoughtful frown.

“Reed.” Answered Elladan, his arms crossed and his back stiff as he scanned his surroundings, irritated.

“| _Yes_ | Reed. | _That's what we got to!_ |” Elrohir snorted mockingly. “| _This would not have happened if my brother had entrusted me with the task of naming us!_ |"

The brown twin frowned slightly at his younger brother but returned to his abstract observation a moment later; The blond elf was left incredulous.

“| _What... were not you present when the subject was approached...?_ |” He inquired intrigued.

“| _Well, of course I was._ |” The gothic accorded before resuming in complaint. “| _I only made the mistake of joking about the color of my brother's headband, which was red that day. He then decided, irrevocable, to make this color our second human name._ |”

A tense silence followed – the brothers considering each other – until the eldest of the half-elves finally started to speak again.

“| _So... what are we doing...?_ |” He asked suddenly blankly.

“| _What, we are going to order, of course_! |” Exclaimed the dark-haired elf, again the very personification of enthusiasm.

“| _Alright..._ |” Sighted Elrond's other son defeated.

“| _Come Lord Glorfindel!_ |” Elrohir then continued with a wide smile, gesturing to his blond friend. “| _This is the perfect opportunity for you to learn how to use a_ | crédit card!”

And as he said that, the person in front of them finished his order and left, allowing them to proceed.

“| _So, Elladan, my brother, what do you want to eat?_ |” He asked, his tone light but his eyes insistent.

“I'll take a salad.” Decided grumpily the addressed twin, unconsciously passing from sindarin to english.

“ ‘I’ll take a salad!' ” Repeated the gothic in a bad imitation after glancing at him. “You can’t take salad. We don’t take salad in a fast food!”

The brown elf glowered at his double, moody.

“Alright!” The other gave in and pretending exasperation – a smirk finally slipping on his face. “But it will be a chicken salad then.”

Leaving no room for answer, he continued.

“I will take a Big Mac with big World Famous Fries, a Hot Fudge Sunday and a big Coca-Cola!” He said while ordering it then turning to his gold haired friend. “| _Lord Glorfindel what would you like to try?_ |”

Laurefindil, having curiously observed the twins exchange in English and nervously watched the humans around him, was taken by surprise when he was spoken to again.

“| _Well..._ |” He hesitated, looking uncertainly at the small images on the screen. “| _Since I do not know anything about this type of food, I think I will be better trusting Lord Elrohir tastes and take the same dishes._ |”

“| _...and in that, I think you're mistaken._ |” Intervened Elrond's eldest son with a not so quiet whisper attracting the Noldo's attention who turned to look at him, squirting his eyes in suspicion.

“| _Excellent choice mellon!_ |” Replied the gothic eagerly before the other could say anything else. | _And two of the same!_ |

Then, he three elves finished ordering and the former students showed the ex-sword master how to make a payment by credit card.

Then again, Elrohir, pushed them to continue and found them a table far from passage, against a wall. They sat down on the cushioned bench and waited for their order to arrive.

“| _I still do not understand..._ |” Declared Glorfindel once settled next to a window from which he could see other Men strolling in the streets. “| _Where is the money?_ |”

“| _It is fictional._ |” Replied the younger of Elrond sons after a hesitation.

“| _Fictional?_ |” He repeated stunned. | _How can Men accept this...?_ |

“| _The money is not fictional._ |” Intervened the brown twin facing him with a frown, considering the situation. “| _Only the transaction is fictitious._ |”

Glorfindel shook his head slightly, not really knowing whether he was exasperated by the fact that he did not understand anything that was explained to him or by the complete nonsense of this world where humans now reigned.

“| _It would be like..._ |” Started to say brown twin uncertain. “| _A safe whose_ the | credit card | _would be the way for you to dispose of the money inside._ |”

At the end of his sentence Elladan cast a questioning glance at his brother, who quickly nodded before the two turned to the Noldorin elf.

“| _Do you understand Lord?_ |” Then inquired Elrohir.

“| _I think yes_. |” Affirmed the addressed although a little confused and intrigued. “| _And so you have, in a way, filled this safe Lord Elladan?_ |”

“| _Exactly!_ |” Asserted the youngest twin, pleased that their explanation was clear enough while Elladan also nodded. “| _So today we can introduce you to this world's best food!_ |”

At this statement, the brunet seemed to lose interest – more or less found again – in the discussion and sniffed disdainfully.

“| _I still cannot believe you convinced me to eat here..._ |” He mumbled, perhaps to himself.

“| _And yet I did!_ |” His brother replied, rejoicing at his accomplishment and the apparent bad mood of his twin. “| _You are getting soft in your old days my brother!_ |”

“| _Excuse me?!_ |” Elladan gasped completely blown.

Having watched the exchange in the back, Glorfindel suddenly found himself rubbed of words, coughing loudly behind his hand in hope of concealing the laugh that came to him. Seeing, however, how Elrond's sons turned to him suspiciously, he cleared his throat and, with a new impeccable countenance, asked the first question that came to his mind:

“| _Why are you so reluctant to eat in this Elrondion place?_ |” He asked with a slightly intrigued look, to which Elladan took an outraged expression before answering him.

“| _You can not imagine what humans do to..._ |” Elrond's son started to say before his brother suddenly leaned over the table and put a hand on his mouth.

“| _Sing hey! for the bath at close of day that washes the weary mud away!_ |” Sang the latter to cover the voice of his pair, “| _A loon is he that will not sing: O! Water Hot is a noble thing!_ |”

“Shut up!” Elladan whispered angrily before removing his brother's hand and looking around anxiously.

The three friends remained silent and on edge, Laurefindil having grasped the anxious tone of the eldest of the half-elves even if the meaning of the words had remained unknown to him.

After a few moments of nothing happening, the two brothers finally seemed to relax a little and, as Elladan let out a small sigh of relief, Elrohir gave a tight smile.

“| _Sorry!_ |” He said in a whisper, contrite.

The Noldorin elf, however, had a harder time lowering his guard, and he looked at them for a moment, trying to calm down before thinking about speaking again.

“Hello...” Suddenly said someone making the three elves turn around abruptly.

“Hello...” Repeated uneasily a woman with brown hair in front of the twins taken aback and a wary Laurefindil. “Do you speak sindarin...?”

“| _A..._ |” Croaked Elrohir frozen before his twin interrupted him by grabbing his hand as discreetly as possible on an empty table.

After a tense look directed at his twin – indication for silence and caution – the brown elf moved again his attention on the woman who had spoken and his expression – previously astonished and distrustful – was now all aggression; Laurefindil also watching carefully the stranger.

“Who are you?” Asked the eldest twin in english, his voice cold and impenetrable, his jaw tight.

“I... I'm Fiona...” Stammered the woman looking less and less sure before putting a tray in front of the three friends. “I bring you your order... You are the table eight right...? Right…”

Nobody answered her and none stopped to observe her either. Silence was complete, and after a time where she seemed to consider leaving, she instead fixed her eyes on those of Elladan.

“| _You... you're edhil, are_ _you not?_ |” She asked in a trembling whisper and the three elves, forgetting their apprehension, remained speechless.

A moment – quicker – passed again and Laurefindil then burst with life, feeling joy and hope making him light; the new inspiration he took swelling his lungs with new fresh air.

“| _Yes we are. And you are certainly too._ |” He then attested, his look shining with conviction under his lenses who had become yellow and bright. “| _Would you like to sit down for a moment?_ |”

In front of Elrohir and Elladan, Glorfindel suddenly seemed formidable; his proposal had remained polite, accompanied by a gesture inviting to take a place, but all at this table had been able to feel his unwavering determination.

The woman – Fiona – blinked, then turned her head over her shoulder to look at the counter where one of her colleagues seemed to meet her eyes and nod. She then sat on the couch, the brown twin leaving room and shifting sharply for the greatest confusion of the gothic. The three Elven men then took or distributed the food between themselves before beginning their meal; discovering it indecisively for Glorfindel, devouring it with envy for Elrohir and pecking at it with frank disgust for Elladan.

The young woman, not having noticed the strange reaction of the brown semi-elf, spoke enthusiastically.

“I did not think of finding | _edhil_ | in USA! I had almost lost hope of ever finding one!” Exclaimed with bright eyes the woman before turning to Glorfindel who had invited her. “So | _Ódhel_ | – you are | _Ódhel_ | right…? – what’s your name?”

Glorfindel stopped halfway with his hamburger in hand and remained looking incredulously at Fiona, who was suddenly speaking english to him. Elrohir, having come out of his astonishment when the food had arrived, intervened after a mouthful of meat and cheese:

“Yes our friend is a | _Ódhel_ |.” He confirmed with a small nod. “But he has only recently arrived in Middle-earth, he does not yet know english.”

“Oh I see...” Said Fiona looking a little embarrassed before turning back to the blond elf and putting his right hand on her heart. “| **_A star shines on the hour of our meeting Lord Ñoldo!_** |”

At this demonstration of the polyglot woman speaking ancient quenya perfectly – some accent giving exoticism to her pronunciation – Laurefindil was once again struck speechless and the twins looked just as stunned; still Elladan was suspicious and played distractedly with the chicken pieces in his salad.

“| **_You know quenya...?_** |” Asked dumbly the blond elf, forgetting for a moment his meal.

“| **_Yes, I was taught from an early age._** |” The woman confirmed laughing despite the evidence of the answer, her green eyes sparkling with mischief. “| **_How do you find my wording Lord?_** |”

“| **_Well, I have to admit it is very good._** |” Glorfindel said to getting back to himself and giving a pleasant smile before biting carefully in the assembly of meat, cheese and vegetables in front of him.

“| **_So you also know quenya my Lady?_** |” Elladan remarked, scrutinizing Fiona attentively for the complete confusion of his brother and the Noldorin elf. “| **_It seems, however, that you are from Sindarin origin, if the accent tells nothing..._** |”

“| **_Yes..._** |” She answered lowly, her smile becoming more reserved, her expression confused and guarded.

“| _Good. Now, you will all talk in "kweenya" and I will not be able to keep up!_ |” Spock suddenly the gothic scowling and having barely finished what he had in mouth.

At this remark Elladan gave him an exasperated look, Glorfindel was contrite and Fiona burst out laughing.

“| _Let's talk sindarin then!_ |” Decided the woman giving a knowing smile to the black haired elf who could not help but answering it with one of his.

“| _It would not have been a problem if you had been willing to listen at Father's classes._ |” The brown twin reprimanded before gently shaking his head, unable to stop a smile despite the weird situation.

To this, the black-haired twin smiled, falsely innocent, and would also have stuck out his tongue if the Noldorin elf had not cleared his throat, disconcerted by their bickering and wishing to return to what was, to him, the heart of the matter:

“| _I can not keep from wondering about the reason for your presence in Middle-earth._ |” He said, returning his attention to the dark-haired woman. “| _Would it be too indiscreet of me to inquire how much time you have already spent my lady there?_ |”

“| _No of course, I..._ |"

Fiona, who was until now happy and quick to laugh, became silent. In the quiet, his face seemed to suddenly lost his color and his eyes filled with fear, _realization_.

Under the eyes of the three friends – at first incredulous then worried – the young woman's hands started clutching at the edge of the table, squeezing it to the point of turning her knuckles white. Observing them one by one, she opened her mouth several times without anything coming out and finally resuming after a while.

“| _I... I... I have to warn you...!_ | She stammered, looking lost before speaking again in a rush. “| _I do not know how long you have been in Middle-earth, but I pray my Lords listen to me! In no case you should attempt to go to Dôr Rodyn! The Belain have been chased away from the place and..._ | –”

“| _We already know this, my Lady_ |” Glorfindel interrupted her grimly before adding. “| _Indeed, I am only here today because I was able to flee and cross the sea by myself._ |”

Fiona stared at Glorfindel with a mixture of horror and compassion at this revelation but the blond one refused to meet her gaze and Elrohir, glancing at his friend, hesitated before speaking.

“| _We also know about it... my brother and I_. |” He said to Fiona before casting a look at his twin, quietly asking for indulgence. “| _Our friend told us everything and we promised to help him find others survivors._ |”

Another glance at Elladan and Elrohir was talking again.

“| _We are looking for family too._ |” He finally confessed, which earned him a disapproving frown from his brother.

Fiona nodded silently and she seemed suddenly absent, her eyes distant.

“| _I... I remember being with my husband that night... we were in first place to see what happened..._ |” She recounted the anguish affecting her voice. “| _the halls of Badhron were destroyed and the dead released... We fled together and yet suddenly he was no longer by my side..._ |"

There was a pause, the three friends processing what the woman had just said before a sudden buzz was heard and she took out her cellphone to check the screen, lips pursed.

“| _I have to go back to work..._ |” She said without moving, reluctant.

There was a short silence then she resumed in a low but determined voice, fixing in turn the three young elves.

 “| _I have to find him ... I'll help you._ |”

“| _Perfect!_ |” Cheered Elrohir. “| _We will help you find your husband and you will help us with our relatives!_ |”

“| _Wait, wait!_ |” Elladan suddenly exclaimed, staring stunned at his brother and his friend but only receiving a quick glance from the first one who had started eating again and a silent interrogation from the second.

Nevertheless, that did not stop him. Although he confided in Glorfindel's wise judgment and did not want to give Elrohir the opportunity to label him once again as "stuck" or "Hasbeen", he was suspicious of Fiona – a strange feeling of uneasiness having nagged him since he had laid eyes on this woman. He quickly searched for words; a plausible reason for the interruption.

“| _We... We don’t even know who the person you are looking for is...!_ |” He finally said exasperated.

“| _Oh right…!_ |” Realized the brunette, turning uncomfortably towards the brown elf; watching him guardedly. “| _He is tall and tanned, his hair is blond and his eyes are blue. His name is Ardamírë but he’s better known as Eärendil._ |"

Elrohir, who was sharing his attention between his food and the conversation, almost choked on a piece of sandwich; Laurefindil about to eat, froze, wide-eyed and Elladan, exhausted from the beginning of this meeting by this uneasy feeling he had finally thought to have found the reason for it but, completely stunned, didn’t know if he could really believe it.

“| _...Grandmother Elwing...?_ |” Elrohir finally said with the subtlety of an elephant in a porcelain shop.

And thus, he put words on the discovery of the three friends, instantly causing the astonished then scrutinizing look of Fiona.

“| _You... You are the children of my Elrond... are you not?_ |” She murmured hesitant in the growing silence; a look of recognition on his face.

Going from the youngest to the eldest of the twins, she looked at them in detail, the certainty gaining her the more she looked at them and her eyes became bright with emotion.

“| _Lady Elwing Dioriel, please let me introduce you to Lord Elladan and Elrohir._ |” Announced suddenly Glorfindel trying to recover from the shock in which the brothers were yet caught. “| _Elrondionnath, indeed._ |”

The brunette looked at the twins again after the blonde elf's statement but before she could answer anything, a new vibration sounded.

“| _...I really have to go!_ |” She exclaimed as she got up and gave the three elves an apologetic look.

Then, taking  a pen out of her pocket, she began to scribble something on a napkin in the tray.

“| _Here, I leave you my number..._ |” She said hastily.

And while Fiona was giving the paper to Elrohir grinning nervously, the gothic seemed to come out of his trance, grabbed the pen, another paper and wrote on it before giving all back to her.

“| _Thank you._ |” Fiona said with a smile of gratitude, giving the elves a last glance before leaving and disappearing out of their sight.

An blank moment passed as the three elves watched the woman walk away, all contemplating their thoughts, then the black haired one finally broke the stillness, hesitating.

“| _El..._ |” He began his voice suddenly shaking, his eyes shining and fixed in those of his brother. “| _El... She looks like Arwen._ |”

Without a word, Elladan's hand passed near the trays and took hold of the greasy fingers of his little brother; did not let them go.

At their side, the blond elf had seemed to froze on the spot at these words but soon began to eat again, his attention completely focused on the food and nothing else.

 

*

* *

 

With concentration, he drew his finger closer and delicately, the film was placed on his eye. Blinking several times in front of the mirror, he felt a little uneasy with one blue eye and the other orange, so he quickly took the second lens.

Glorfindel had felt bothered by his eyes lenses and on advice of Elladan – who had changed his early that day – had decided to do the same and went to the bathroom.

About to put the second however, an outraged cry came from the downstairs and startled him. Helpless, he watched as the little piece slipped and disappeared into the pipe. Leaning against the furniture, he sighed annoyed and remained motionless for a moment, as if he could bring back the lens by sheer will. Finally shaking his head, he opened another pair and quickly finished his preparation; Elrond's sons had finally returned to the ranch, like every Friday.

Leaving the room, he heard the protests that were rising again and – coming downstairs – he found the twins opposed to each other in the hallway, speaking vividly in english.

"Are you fucking serious?” Thundered the gothic fuming and Laurefindil stared at him with surprise and confusion. “You really wanna let this guy come?!”

“| _Elrondionnath what..._ |” Started to say the blonde elf before being interrupted, his remark going unnoticed.

“He can help us and you know it!” Argued the brown one before notifying the Noldo with a nod.

“I don’t give a shit…!” Retorted the second twin between anger and disbelief.

A silence followed where the two half-elves looked at each other, then Elrohir noticed Glorfindel who had approached them and was being uncomfortable with the situation.

"Seriously El..." He sighed in frustration after turning back to his twin, having silently greeted his friend. “Even as a detective this guy is not clean!”

“Of course!” Elladan answered in a whisper just high enough for a fine, elven, hearing. “How do you think he would be useful otherwise?”

“No.” Refused again the black haired elf, stubbornly. “I’m not letting this man come here.”

With these words, he turned to his blond friend and without thinking, spoke in english:

“Tell him, Lord Glorfindel!” He called with a gesture towards him.

“Don’t involve him...!” Admonished the brown half-elf before the Noldo could ask why he had been called on like that. “Anyway, he didn’t understand what you said, you spoke english.”

There was another unpleasant quiet, where Laurefindil finally thought he could intervene, but the eldest brother spoke again and the blonde elf pinched his nose, irritated.

“...You're going to have to because he will surely be here shortly now.” He said firmly to his pair.

“What?” Elrohir exclaimed scandalized and Laurefindil raised an exasperated look at the argument wich was resuming.

“It’s for safety... –”

“Safety, what a shit! The younger man finally exploded continuing in a venomous whisper. “One day this guy will turn against us and then ... we'll be fucked!”

“| _ELRONDIONNATH!_ |” Yelled the Noldorin elf, finally gaining the attention of the twins who turned to him astonished and guilty. “| _What is going on?_ |”

“| _A Man must join us in a short time to provide us with information that could help in our research,_ |” Elladan explained to his friend, feeling embarrassed. “| _and my brother and I have... a disagreement._ |”

“| _A Man…?_ |” Repeated Glorfindel suddenly wary.

But the brown elf could not say more for he saw his brother’s reproaching stare and quickly put his hands on Elrohir's shoulders, looking him in the eye.

"If he comes to this, I'll take care of it. _Personally_.” He promised with all the certainty he could in his voice before going back to his Noldorin friend. “| _I assure you, Lord Glorfindel, that there is no cause for worries._ |"

This response elicited a low mumble from the black-haired elf and an indecisive nod from the blond-haired one, but it was enough for Elladan and – about to say something else – he was suddenly interrupted by a maid approaching them.

“Messrs. Reed...?” She called cautiously, gauging the mood of the men before continuing. “A man wants to enter the property. “Ben, he didn't tell his last name and was very insistent.”

“Yes, we are waiting for him, let him in." Firmly stated the brown twin despite the reluctance of the other elves present.

Not noticing the disagreement of one of the owners – or simply choosing to ignore it – the woman nodded and left. Then, sighing heavily, Elrohir went to the dining room to put his backpack on the sofa and, resigned, sat at the table where he was soon joined by his brother and his friend. Together, they waited.

A few moments later at most – and after a loud screeching on gravel – an human unknown of Glorfindel entered the living room, hasty and nervous. Elladan, suddenly changing his behavior, got up and went to meet him with a smile that Laurefindil had often seen him wear at counsel times in the city of Imladris.

“Ben!” He called warmly before extending his fist in front of him, a kind of salutation supposed the blond elf. “How are you ?”

But his gesture was left unanswered and the half-elf looked surprised for a moment before letting his arm fall and listen to the man who started to speak:

"Can we get done with this already? Lashed irritably the man, dropping a CD on the dining table while the gothic and the Noldo stared at him with varying degrees of hostility and mistrust.

“Yeah, whatever.” Assured the older twin, again imperturbable before declaring that he was going to get his computer.

Taking a chair nonchalantly and gaining a dark look from Elrohir, Ben the detective – stared at by the two sitting elves – waited silently for Elrond's first son to come back with the necessary and put the CD into the drive.

“I asked a cop to give me a copy of the video.” Informed the man with circumspection when the brown elf returned and the CD was inserted.

“Asked or bought?” Threw the black-haired twin with malice; receiving a silent warning from his brother.

“It was taken from a cell phone so the quality is not that good.” Ben continued completely ignoring the younger twin's remark and barely looking at the elder.

Elladan then looked at his brother and his friend in turn to make sure they were ready to watch what was coming, although he himself was not sure.

If Elrond's youngest son's brief head movement had not been sufficient to understand what was going on without grasping the words of the conversation, Laurefindil also guessed easily that they would watch moving pictures on the computer and probably of the shopping center, based on the last track they were working on.

He agreed with his former students.

 

*

 

Glorfindel rubbed his face – like emptied of his strength – for the third time in the last minutes. The twins were silent, Elrohir by his side was staring at the now empty screen where, a few moments ago, memories of rare violence had been replayed. Elladan, pale and mute, sometimes came to look at his Noldorin friend before fixing again his fingers crossed on the table.

 _I do not know what happened to those who attacked_ – had translated Elrohir for Glorfindel after the human had left, leaving them alone in the kitchen-living room – _but these individuals at the mall have all suddenly disappeared from the places of detention where they were held without trace. I think they were murdered and I have a bad feeling. I will not help you anymore._ –

Suddenly the youngest of the half-elves got up and Laurefindil's thought were cut short. Removing his hand from his eyes he saw the young elf heading to the kitchen to get a glass of juice from the place where were kept fresh food and come serve him the drink.

“| _Drink Lord Glorfindel, you..._ | He started suggesting before his voice faded in uncertainty and silence took hold again.

The blond elf stared at the contents of the cup as if it contained all the answers to his questions and ended up drinking for politeness.

“| _They are orcs._ |” He declared then, the stillness lasting a little longer yet before an incredulous answer came from Elrond's eldest son.

“| _No._ |” He refuted with the tone of evidence. “| _Orcs are smaller, their skin is darker._ |”

“| _Those created by Sauron in the Third Age, yes._ |” Conceded Glorfindel, staring in the vague. “| _after their degeneration._ _Not those of the First Age, created by Morgoth._ |”

“| _What exactly are you saying Lord Glorfindel? That the Black For created a new army of monsters?_ |” Inquired Elrohir only half joking.

“| _It's an orc that I saw that day..._ |” Suddenly realized the Noldorin elf as if he had been blind from the beginning and only now opened his eyes; his empty gaze fixing the glass from which he took another sip.

“| _So what would they be like_? |” Elladan asked baffled but still trying for some pragmatism.

Having swallowed the juice, Laurefindil now seemed more present to answer him and proceeded.

“| _They are very similar to one of Us._ |” He began explaining, taking care to make his voice neutral, his face impassive. “| _Indeed, they are certainly ancient elves tortured and perverted by Morgoth but the result created has not yet worsened as much as for those you have always faced. However, the deterioration will be seen more and more, generations after generations._ |”

He paused, thinking for a moment, then went on:

“| _Some would not be so different if their skin was not so sickly pale... their fingers not adorned with awful claws... Others can be recognized by the perfidy in their eyes or the abnormal mutation that suffered their body._ |”

“| _Good._ |” Summed up after a moment Elrohir having sat down again smiling; a kind of nervous grimace in front of this situation. “| _We think – we're not sure, are we? – that orcs – more powerful – have just been arrested and then disappeared mysteriously, probably killed. What do we do ?_ |”

“| _I think we should contact... contact Lady Elwing._ |” The eldest twin stated, after some moment at a loss.

“| _Yes, she must be made aware of the danger. I will contact her._ |” Acquiesced the other, unable to hide his surprise at his brother making this proposal.

Laurefindil meanwhile, continued to listen distractedly and – numbly – drink a bit of orange juice.

“| _I think we should try to find more information about these things. If they have been murdered, we must know by whom._ |” Added the younger brother.

“| _And quickly._ |” The brown twin immediately agreed.

“| _Well, let's start looking then._ |” Concluded the black-haired elf before reactivating the computer and tapping on the keyboard. “| _I do not think we can really find any other information on the_ | Internet | _but -_ |”

“| _No._ |” Spoke Laurefindil without even looking at the twins who had turned to him incredulous. “| _Nobody will start research today._ |”

“| _But Lord Glorfindel..._ |” Elladan interjected confused before being cut off too.

“| _It's late Elrondionnath_ |” He said, his expression looking tired again. “| _Let's take the time for thinking my Lords._ |”

Elrohir, who was about to argue, was this time stopped by his brother who gave him a meaningful look and – taking their leaves from the Noldo and taking the computer – the twins then apologized quickly and turned on their heels, the eldest slipping his arm over the other's shoulders to whisper some secret words as they walked away.

Laurefindil pretended not to notice and waited a few minutes to make sure that they had truly gone upstairs. Then, springing from the chair, he walked to the refrigerator, immediately finding the beer bottles stored there. Taking one, his attention returned to the table where he saw his empty juice glass.

Considering his next action, he made his choice quickly. Opening the bottle as he had seen Lord Elrohir do several times, he brought it to his mouth and drank directly from it. His gulp swallowed, he grabbed another bottle and went back to sit down. Drinking intermittently, he remained vague.

The minutes were fading and the sips of alcohol – as well as the empty bottles – were accumulating, drowning into each other. However, Glorfindel still did not move and paid no attention to his surroundings; carried on drinking and had every intention of continuing doing so.

Indeed, in the silence of the deserted room, the atmosphere was favorable to introspection and images started to impose themselves to him with more or less consistency: detonations in a terrified crowd – panic and chilling fear; High towers drowning in fumes and incessant agitation – impotence and incomprehension; His aching, icy, body fighting – around him an everlasting ocean leaving him no hope; Cries of horror heard from all over the camp – under his eyes monstrous armies destroying and killing...

But around all this, a terrible feeling of complete loneliness was always spreading, and while it seemed to him that his vision was blurred, a memory momentarily drove all the others away. The illusion seemed to come to life, and he was at that moment persuaded not only to see the scene in his mind, but to hear it too.

...It was a peaceful and happy moment. Under the cool shade of a large tree, he could see a woman smiling at him and she held out her arms as their eyes met. Not far from there, a young child turned around and a smile lit up his eyes when he saw him too. It was the last time he had seen such a smile on that innocent face.

“| **_Atar!_** |” Called the little white face crowned with golden hair, running to him through the garden animated by warm breezes. “| **_Atar, come play with us! Atar, come join us!_** |”

Glorfindel shut his eyes close as he came back to the present. Exhausted and made more miserable by the alcohol he had consumed, his head came to hide in the crook of his arms and he burst into tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what did you think of this chapter :)? Leave a comment if you want :)


	13. I belong to you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> I hope you all had a good summer! I come back with a brand new chapter that I wanted to write since the beginning of the story but that I had a hard time letting go.
> 
> Well, I hope you enjoy the rest of the adventure with Finley and Kyle!

_He_ _opened his eyes to darkness. Blind, he remained frozen where he was and his breathing quickened. He felt like falling, like being swallowed up! The darkness was complete – it was everywhere! – and the voices called to him, summoned him, howled around him –_

**_To the Everlasting Darkness doom us…_ **

_A wrenching vertigo assailed him and... And he was there! Oh damn it, he was! ; on the edge of the precipice, the path without return. Would the Dark finally get him...? Had it already swallowed him up?_

**_Death we will deal him ere Day's ending_ ** _..._

_NO! No! He had never said those words...! He was not there! Not yet! He –_

_A screech burst out of silence, like a mad demon rising from too peaceful night._

_He stopped being._

_For a moment, everything stopped existing – like frozen in time – and he didn’t dare breathe anymore; convinced that, already, the Nothingness had taken him. It was very unlikely though. It could not be true! Also... He knew this noise, had already heard it many times: The scraping of old metal on a stone floor._

_Slowly, his cold fingers fumbled along his arm – trying to check, to reassure himself – and he found the familiar embrace of metal on wrist, on ankle, on neck. He was not lost, he was safe. The only thing he had to do now was to regain his composure._

**_When you are scared, you have to think about oxygenating your lungs properly._ **

_A warm, deep, voice was recalling to his memory._

**_Inspire and count to five and then expire counting to five... And start again..._ **

_Yes, it was easy. He just had to_ breathe _._

_*_

_Slowly, he was rocking – back and forth... back and forth... Breathe in, breathe out. Everything was fine now. He was able to measure his respiration and keep the fear at bay, his movements carrying soft clattering and soothing scratching in their wake._

Everything was fine.

_Then the peaceful moment disappeared abruptly. Heavy footsteps were heard in the corridor and the door flew open, crashing against the wall. Light-struck, everything became unbearably white and he quickly closed his eyes._

_His orbits poured streams of tears and his vision was blurry when he tried to open his eyes again a few seconds later but he finally distinguished radiating forms moving around him, one of them – more blinding than the others – approaching. Frightened, he withdrew on himself, the metal tinkling under his hasty gestures, his gaze coming to look at the dazzling silhouette._

_The light that emanated from it – alive and fiery – he could not turn away from it! He did not want to!_

_"You do not realize..." Resonated the deep voice of the entity in front of him, a caress on the cheek coming with the exhausted tone. "All that I have to do because of you. But it does not matter now, you will be able to correct it this time."_

_The man – the Being, the flamboyant presence – he could now see more clearly, paused and he met his eyes fearfully before looking down again._

_"Give me your hand.” Sounded the demand, reverberated on the stone walls, a hand slowly pulling off one of the rings that was on the fingers._

_The order was indisputable, he knew it. But he did not follow it though; he did not give in. On the contrary, he had brought his hands to him alarmed and regretted the gesture the very moment he did it, the other’s eyes – already furious – now being ardent._

_"M-mercy..." He stammered, desperate to see his mistake forgiven. "M-mercy…”_

_But before him the face became all the more implacable and, before he could detect anything, he was already seized by the wrist; the grip stronger than steel._

_With brutal force, his hand then came to meet the stone wall. With a shocked cry of surprise and pain, he collapsed to the ground; there he saw the strange curve of his hand – astounded by the nagging pain he felt._

_" **Give – me – your – hand!** ” Repeated the man, inflexible, the growling tone of his voice pounding on every word._

_With no other choice, he gave in._

_Shivering, he approached the man and – the dragging of chains reminded him of metal, hammer, anvil – put the twisted member in the hand waiting. Enclosed in an unalterable grip, he then felt his wrist softly caressed; his knuckles brushed._

_"That's good... that's very good..." The person cooed as the pain continued pulsing horribly._

_The clever fingers then slipped the ring they had removed and –_

_Oh, damn it! –_

_All the air seemed gone in an instant and he was left suffocating; desperately opening his mouth and breathing in but –_

_Nothing! THERE WAS NOTHING! –_

_Panic sized him and he started uttering frantic strangled cries, his free hand coming to pull at his collar, scratching his own throat till blood in vain hope to find air. His vision was filled with white dots – red, black. His ears were buzzing and he felt that – He had to breathe!_

_And then the after-blow fell on him: With incredible violence, he seemed to crash on the ground – as if from great heights – the breathing returning to him suddenly after the shock, accompanying vertigos and nauseas that left him vomiting on floor._

_Barely recovering from his regurgitation – and still disoriented – he still felt it come; This wave that came to blow him up. It swept him off and left him shaking. But it was not the only thing it left him with: Slowly, sinuously, he felt a unnatural warmth crept in, envelop him, a presence insinuating itself in and trap him in the thread of his own mind; deceiving and guiding him wherever it wished; locking him in a jail minutely raised around him._

_Beyond his attention – caught in the instinctive struggle against intrusion – a sound had born and developed, amplified and reverberated by the stones of his physical prison and, when he finally heard it, he understood. He understood that the fiery Being was speaking and –_

_Too late!_ Too late _! –_

_"NO!” He shouted frantically, struggling to pull himself away from the physical embrace that still remained unmovable. "PLEASE MACHANÂZ, NO! "_

_But once again he was ignored and, helpless, he listened as the voice of the man took even more might – and hold too – the echo and power seeming to come from beyond his throat, his dimension beyond what any physical substance could contain or understand – beyond what a conscience could interpret._

_And he screamed._

_With all his strength and covering his ear with his only available hand – a poor physical barrier against a psychic invasion – he roared to the point of breaking his voice._

_Pain! So much hurt! –_

_The voice was giving him so much! It was unbearable and he writhed in agony; convulsed under the weight that smothered him. Absently – distantly – he realized that his ears were bleeding, that his body was burning up, but it was almost nothing compared to the external force – he could not resist it! Could not outweigh it! – which was gradually mingling with his being and maiming it irrevocably._

_He could not see or be aware of anything that was happening to him outside of his head, yet he could swore that the intensity of the attack did not cease to increase, to expand – another Will perhaps adding it’s force to the first to restrain more still – and he sometimes managed to grasp bits of words or intentions among all those exploding in his head; orders imposed on him by the mere fact of their invocation._

_**Penetrate ... – infuse ... – Recognize ... – Bind ... – Control – Expand... –**_

_Then suddenly –_

 

**/ WAKE UP! /**

Atrocious.

It was the intensity with which the pain struck him and, with a hoarse cry, he threw himself forward and finally curled up; his head held in his hands.

Long moments – as eternal as ages – then seemed to pass in utter agony before he could finally find coherent thought and, with care, reopen his eyes.

The awakening had been brutal but quick at least and when he could see, he immediately noticed the presence of Finley by the bed. Finley glaring at him furiously, Finley radiating anger.

So Kyle remained motionless. Staring at the sheets drenched in sweet, he listened to the frantic beatings of his heart, tried to regulate his breathing.

"What is that?!” Said the archaeologist after another moment, showing some white paper sheets in his left hand.

Kyle let a beat pass, not sure what was expected of him or even the answer he had to give.

"What... you asked me Mâchanâz..." He finally murmured apprehensively, his eyes fixed on his damp blankets.

"What I asked you?” Repeated Finley furiously, forgetting the papers and throwing himself on him; bumping him against the mattress. "ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!"

The man's hands came to rest on his neck, tightening dangerously their grip and shaking him sharply.

"All that I could have guessed just by looking at you!” He yelled again, enraged.

Then, with a roar, the dark-haired man brought down his fist. Under surprise and pain, Kyle let out a scream and remained for a moment confused, realizing what was happening only when the blows began to come more and more.

Indeed, Finley's hand was still pressed on his throat and his fist fell on him fiercely, leaving behind a stinging pain; a metallic taste. The man was brutal and uncontrollable – even more than when he threw him on this same bed to pursue completely different sorts of activities – but Kyle knew that at this moment Finley was not using all his strength, _not yet_ and he remained passive, dazed and hoping to see his companion calm down; trying to think of something coherent that could temper him.

That was when a sharp crack sounded, sending a wave of pain along his cheek and jaw. A stifled scream tore his throat and acid tears came to his eyes.

 _His mouth_! It seemed to be blazing hot!

He twisted impulsively but could not free himself from Finley's grip and, after a few moments more, he finally let himself fell heavily onto the mattress. Unmoving, he was only aware of the pain – of the boiling blood – in his mouth and of his whimpers. The hand wrapped around him then suddenly disappeared, leaving him panting and coughing as the air rushed again into his lungs.

After a few confused moments where he only focused on breathing again, he began to hear voices talking, engaged in conversation. Focusing on the sounds, he attempted to open his eyes and distinguish the shrouded forms in the room, one which was certainly Finley.

"... and he wants to see you immediately Mâchanâz. He finally heard an unfamiliar voice speak.

Blinking, he tried to find something to look at, something to focus on and clear his sight, but a few seconds later he closed his eyes, the pain troubling him too much for anything. Also, he felt a look on him and, distressed, was almost certain that the stranger was watching him.

"Alright, I'll be here in a moment. Finley's voice answered mechanically and, with relief, Kyle finally heard the other person leave the room.

The quiet was again and the relief short-lived, as the tense silence remained more and more. Kyle wanted to see his surroundings and – his vision more or less righted – finally beheld the archaeologist glaring at him.

"I'll hand you back to him.” Said he after a moment, his voice dry and cold. "And he’ll keep you."

The brown-haired man turned pale. The blood froze in his veins and the beating of his heart – barely soothed – resumed pounding frantically; the air gone again.

 _No_! He did not want to – _could not_ – go back!

"Get up!” The black-haired man barked and Kyle startled before hurrying to do as asked.

But he had not considered his bad eyesight. So, as he was trying to stood, he collapsed on his knees, one arm still resting on the bed in a weak attempt to take support and get back on his feet. Added to that was the difficulty he still had in breathing properly and the flashing pain of his broken jaw, which he remembered with every moves or tension.

"Hurry up!” Finley pressed again while throwing clean clothes at him. "Get dressed and pick up this mess, you’re coming too."

Kyle froze. Finley was really going – _really wanted_ – to leave him there! In _His_ hands! If the archaeologist did not need him anymore – _if he abandoned him_ – then he was sure to never see the light again and be eternally –

In a burst of anguish, he grabbed a piece of Finley's shirt, freezing in horror when he realized what he had done. Not daring to breathe, he waited for long seconds – feeling Finley's anger and discontentment flowing out in waves – before finally finding the courage to speak.

"I... I b-beg o’ you!” He pronounced tensed and pained, staring at the other’ shoes. "Do not do this!"

Tugging slightly on the end of the shirt caught in his tight fingers, he raised his head and looked at the black-haired man in the eyes; tried to form something coherent in his mind that was screaming at the mistake he had just made.

“I’ do ‘etter!” He promised with the desperate conviction that his words were not just that and that he could actually give something more satisfying next time. "I’... he’p you... ‘ind them.”

Quieting up, he inhaled sharply and then waited, dreading the answer his words would get.

"Better?” Finley responded quickly, his tone cold and menacing. "That was what you were supposed to do today, remember? And I still have found nearly to nothing. I think you’ll not do better, really you’re of no use to me anymore.”

At these words, Kyle lost it. Choking on a sob, he hunched over and clenched the cloth he was already holding as his heart was beating madly in his ribcage.

"P-p’ease! Ma'hânâ '!” He said almost unintelligible, shaking his head, his agitation increasing and tears beginning to fill his eyes.

“Stop it right now!” Ordered all the same Finley before pulling away and grabbing Kyle by the hair so he looked up. "I have no time for your shit now, get dressed, quick!"

Released, Kyle slumped down for a moment but swiftly started to move again and – despite his shaking hands – hastily put the clothes on to then pick up the papers scattered on the ground, feeling the oppressive look of the archaeologist weigh on him at every moment; perceiving – now that his attention was to it – another touch than that of Finley. Nevertheless, once dressed and with the papers gathered in his trembling hands, the archeologist instructed him to follow and they both left the room.

Tailing his companion one step back, the brown man kept his eyes glued on the ground, advancing automatically. He felt like he was suffocating but he forced himself to continue; repeated the necessary steps to breathe properly.

It did not work, and in the hallway, Kyle was progressing with uncertainly. In his ears he only heard his shaky breathing and his vision was full of black spots, refusing to stay fixed on what was around. But there was more than that. More than his blurred eyesight, more than his buzzing hearing and his shaking legs, he knew it.

He had to concentrate however! Breathe in and count to five... breath out and count to five… –

It had to work! He had to stay up and keep walking, that was the only thing that mattered! Maybe Finley would change his mind if Kyle did the right thing...? Maybe he would decide to keep him? To come back after a while? Yes! Finley was not going to leave him there. He was going to keep him and would not allow more harm to come to him. Finley would protect him, Finley –

A movement in front of him and a weight on his throat cut short to his frantic thoughts and he found himself staring at the archaeologist who had trapped him against the wall of the stairs they were going through.

"If it goes wrong,” He warned him with a dark look. "You’ll have to do without food for an entire a week, understood?"

The dark-haired man stood transfixed – his trembling stopping for a while – the eyes of the other being only a few inches from his.

“Yes Ma'hânâ’!” He assured spitting a thin line of red saliva in the process which tickled down his chin.

Finley released him quickly, repelled and stared at him for a moment, looking miffed. Kyle waited for the blow he through was coming but felt his face flare up with a horrible tingling instead – like thousands of needles piercing his skin – and bit his lips to stifle a scream. It only lasted some ten seconds but it was strong and, in this little time, his bruises disappeared, his jaw righting itself without any consideration for the effects of this brutal healing on his owner.

The next moment Finley had turned away and continued down the stairs without a word. Kyle, without even thinking about it, went after him.

However, the brown man quickly returned to his right mind: He really didn’t know where he was finding the strength – the courage – to keep walking one step after another with the shaking that he could no longer contain, with this essence that still floated around him; a presence filling every space in the air ; something omniscient that instilled complete confusion, incomprehensible and dark terror.

Was there really only him that could feel it, he wondered desperately. Why did he have to take part in this meeting, which only concerned Finley, he wondered again. But it did not seem to matter as they were – almost – reaching their destination.

Going through an arch, they entered a room which itself led to black doors with wrought iron handles and –

_It was there! Just behind!_

When Finley stopped, Kyle did the same and – a step behind still, staring at the door with trepidation – shuddered under the breath that could be felt yet more in the air, blowing icily. Slowly, a discreet sound – deep and long – rose from the silence, a humming soon joined by shifting and crackling, breezes and currents; pursuing his sinuous musical path imperturbably.

Kyle didn’t move. He stared at a small wooden designed buffet in front of him and kept doing it for the entire time the commotion lasted. Again and again he repeated to himself the same thing, like a mantra.

_Breathe in and count to five, breathe out and count to five, breathe in and count to five, breathe out and –_

His companion suddenly collapsed on the ground with a pained growl and, bent on himself, he looked exhausted. Kyle saw him trying to get up again without success and, not thinking it, came to his side to let him lean on him, the man then slowly straightening up and pushing him away once standing.

"Come!” He afterward ordered in a voice sounding totally different from Finley's.

And for the good reason that the man next to him now was no longer Finley.

The dark and curly hair had given way to a cascade of shimmering golden curls, the tanned skin had acquired an incandescent luster such as the glow of an imperishable flame, the face had drastically changed – now thinner and definite – and the eyes had gone from a virulent blue to shades of amber, the irises perpetually moving around the split pupils; like burning for real, orbs alive and electric.

In front of him, Kyle Lane no longer had Finley Martins but the Great and Admirable Tar-Mairon.

When the man resumed his pace, he followed as if nothing had changed, only shaking his head slightly to try and get rid of the black spots that invaded his vision; of the constant buzzing that polluted his ears.

Then they entered the next room – a large living room with a panoramic window overlooking the heights of the city – and the brown man could not help but feel sick when he walked through the door, almost falling over.

This place was the source of what had inhabited the corridors – what had weighed on his conscience – all the way on and before. He had been oppressed, greatly destabilized by this thing on the way but it had nothing to do with what he was going through now. This thing was a gaping hungry hole, a darkness that seeped through him by every pore of the skin, his invisible and inquisitive fingers running along the body, his mass encircling, ready to reduce a life to nothing at a whim.

So he faltered, unable to go further. And yet... Yet he managed to take hold of the threshold and keep standing on, seeing the eyes of Mairon – all in flamed hues – land on him threateningly. Looking down, he moved a foot, then the other; he was walking again, as he had been urged to.

There were three people waiting in the room: A man in his sixties – with graying hair and impeccable suit – and two other men dressed in black. Arriving at the height of the oldest person, the golden-haired man kneeled down, lowering his head in salute and Kyle knelt too, relieved to be able to press his forehead on the ground and no longer sway; to no longer see that Being from which emanated the Force that terrified him.

"Mâchanâz Belekoroz.” Tar-Mairon greeted respectfully over the buzz that Kyle was still hearing.

“Mayazônôz.” Replied the old man impassive. “There is nobody? No cameras, are you sure?"

There was a second of silence or what looked like it then – looking at a plank of the parquet – Kyle heard Mairon get up and answer with an amused tone:

"Yes Mâchanâz, I'm sure there is none in this room and no camera neither."

But no sooner had he finished speaking that a terrible wind – dreary roar from the depths of deep caves – rose and the house seemed to shake in its foundations – objects falling over or breaking under the shaking and the constant noise in Kyle's ears increased in intensity. The young man, in his panic, escaped a strangled scream: His hands over his ears, he folded on himself while the tremors continued covering others rustlings; breakings and whisperers.

After much too long, the shaking finally began to fade away and everything finally returned to normal, as if nothing had happened in the first place. Kyle did not move. Clutching the wrinkled sheets that were now his work, he stared fixedly at the floor, a few inches from his eyes.

_Breathe, breathe, breathe...! –_

"Cursed... this form...!” Suddenly grumbled a new harsh voice, bouncing against the walls and getting through the roar that Kyle was still hearing. "Well, let’s... then... let's be... still running out of time."

The dark-haired man perceived movements and stiffened more holding back a breath and listening fearfully.

"That's... compensation." Stated the previous voice, like so many echoes of words thundered which left him with a throbbing headache; an increasingly aggressive buzz.

"Where... all else?” He then heard Mairon's voice ask.

He bit his lips and tasted salty blood to try and ignore what he was feeling; to try and keep himself conscious and not attract attention.

"...Oh, you... special payment... course.” He heard the person say again after precious seconds passed, which he spent grinding his lips in hope of keeping himself awake. “I’ll... send... will receive in the day if... well.”

“...thank you Mâchanâz.” Replied Kyle's companion, his satisfied tone barely reaching him above the noise in his ears.

Then an impression of silence came to Kyle – or something he did not hear perhaps...? – and the person conversing with Mairon resumed coldly:

"Do not... thank... too fast," He said, "do you even... want you to do...?”

“Yes Mâchanâz... know... would always... what... necessary.”

“Yes.” Confirmed the old man, Kyle catching a hint of dark irony in his voice before he continued unperturbed. “I could... that before... what of now...?"

A pause, real pause this time, occurred and the brown haired man was seized with even more violent convulsions when the air was suddenly charged with a tension – power, Will – electric force that ravaged the whole room without even altering it in its appearance; two Realities confronting each other in a devastating and silent battle before one finally bent, out of consideration for the other.

The discussion then continued as if nothing had happened.

"...have done it... will always...” Kyle heard Mairon, resume with an assurance that seemed slightly too flat; words too quick.

A sneer echoed over the hissing sound he heard and then the other person spoke again, despairing Kyle – who was no longer sure to be kneeling properly as his head was spinning – to see an end this horrible meeting.

"...forget... all that I gave you... do not forget... whom... belong.” Kyle understood.

"Yes... belong to you..." He heard Mairon answer.

A new silence interrupted the conversation and suddenly, everything seemed to freeze, the air thickening and covering him completely; dropped concrete pressing him to the ground and crushing him with its weight, a molasses flowing over him, suffocating. And he knew then –

_Oh, he knew it – could feel it! –_

The Attention was undeniably turned towards him and only him. He closed his eyes and waited, frozen with terror, sweat beading on his forehead.

“...What... thing doing here?” Finally asked the voice of the man who pinned him with his stare, its sound comparable to furious thunder, to the clash of broken metal.

“...brings proof... state of... research.” The broken answer of his companion reached him again.

“Hm.” The other man muttered indistinctly, barely diverting his attention before centering it again on him, the mood more threatening still. “What... importance?”

Kyle wasn’t sure he had understood the meaning of the last words well. But it didn’t matter if they weren’t meant for him... However, it was to him who the man had spoken to – or not...? – and it suddenly seemed to him not to know how to respond and think anymore. What had been said? What should he answer? Was it really up to him to speak...?

The answer to his question soon came: The specter, which until then had only invaded his environment and reveled in the fear it provoked, came to life and physically seized him. At a blazing speed, his invisible fingers lacerated his body and – leaving in his wake a deadly cold – got to his skull to strike a final attack. Kyle screamed; a pitiful cry that he tried to silence and which tore at his throat.

"Did you not… your pet... talk?” He heard the man ask, condescending.

Then, in the midst of the pain reluctant to fade away, Mairon's discontent – along with the infinite wrath of the other person – was felt, and Kyle tried to recover the use of speech, to gather himself up as quickly as possible, worried about the discontent of the first but still more terrified to displease to the guest.

Painfully, he got on his hands and knees and then knelt, gathering nervously the scattered papers.

"Th-this... is the... the results of the re-research..." He then stammered at the man in front of him, presenting his work with outstretched arms and head lowered.

“...really think... shit interests me?!” Thundered the answer, soon followed by a new hurtful mental stroke.

And again, Kyle uttered a strangled scream before shaking his head briskly from left to right in desperate denial. But the answer didn’t seem to be enough for he felt himself irresistibly taken through the air a second after, guided by the Manifestation that had invaded his body and that now fatally pressed on his throat.

"What do you think you are piece of meat?” The retort spread through the air; expended in his mind and clung to it in deafening echoes.

“N-nothing...!” Strived to articulate the brown man, instinctively sinking his nails in his own neck; hoping to remove a hand that was not there.

“ ** _LOOK AT ME!_** ” The person then shouted, Kyle startling violently in fear and meeting for the first time the unbearable gaze of his interlocutor.

At that moment, he could not break the contact anymore, despite his eyes burning at the mere sight that was imposed to him.

It was inconceivable for Kyle that someone could stand being too long in the presence of this person. His appearance was far from daunting however with her white and healthy skin, her long and black silky hair, her gentle nose almost like that of a child and her big expressive eyes. But some details, nonetheless tainted this vision of perfection, his irises and pupils being constantly drown into a dark bottomless pit, his expression always bearing the marks of wrath and his life force being mortally dangerous for all those who would approach him for too long.

Also, these few changes were accentuated if the man was to get into a black rage – as it was now – so every living being that had to deal with him had learned not to upset Mor –

 _Melkor_. Melkor the Mighty.

So, as it was at that moment, the Being was simply enraged and Kyle, petrified, wondered what he had done to cause such discontent.

"If you were mine to decide," Thundered Melkor staring at him hatefully with his abyssal look, "I would slowly crush every inch of your existence and give the rest of your putrid meat to my creatures!"

That was the last thing Kyle heard.

What followed then could have been comparable to a dam yielding under the waves, the water dismantling each of its stones and destroying everything in its path; to a gaping crack opening on the depths of the earth; to the night banishing the day forever.

And then, in the physical world – only physical – he felt every inch of his body implode, uttering a last roar of pain and losing consciousness even before the fear could size him.

 

**

 

A pulsating headache had taken hold of him just behind the eyes, forcing him to awaken slowly. Gradually, he noticed his dry mouth; recognized the thirst that was harassing him and the dull ache that was in his body – increasing when trying to move. With a soft groan, he then woke up entirely and blinked in confusion, trying to find consistency to his environment.

"You’re awake finally...?” A warm voice whispered before a equally warm hand came through his drenched hair.

Surprised, he opened his eyes and there, in the near darkness, electric blue orbs were watching him intently.

"Mâ... Mâchanâz...?” Kyle spoke hesitantly disoriented and his voice sounding raspy and hoarse in his own ears.

Then he recognized where he was and anxiety took him.

_He should not be here! He was not allowed to stay in his room! –_

He quickly straightened up, pushing back the sheets, wanting to get out of the bed – distantly noticing the white bandages covering his arms and legs – but he had barely moved the blankets that the black-haired man was replacing them.

"What do you think you're doing?” He then reprimanded coldly. "You're not healed yet, you have to stay in bed if you really intend to be of any use to me someday!"

_Not healed...? What…? –_

And suddenly all the recent events came back to him.

_His work – the meeting with Mor-Melkor – the anger that the Vala had unleashed on him._

Overwhelmed by a new fear, the muscles of his body stiffened and added to his pain as he escaped a moan and his fingers clenched on the sheets. Finally raising his head, he came to fix the Maia in front of him with a frightened stare.

"You remember now.” The archaeologist stated and it was not a question so Kyle said nothing – not that he was sure he would have been able to give some kind of answers if it was.

A time passed then, the man with black hair having turned away from him and now observing the black night through the window. Finally getting up from the bed where he had been sitting, he took a few steps in the room before passing his hand through his hair and stretching lazily. He spoke again then:

“What do you think of it?” He asked, leaving, this time, no emotion in his voice, no indication of what was the right way to go.

However, it was a question, so Kyle had to answer it.

"I-I'm sorry..." He finally stammered weakly. "I'm... so sorry Mâchanâz..."

There was no immediate reaction to his words – not that he knew of at least – and Kyle wondered if he should raise his eyes unconsciously lowered; if that was what Mairon wanted now. However, he had – rarely – had the right to do so, so why would it be different this time...?

"Hm.” He finally heard the man mumbling before he sat down again on the bed and caressed his cheek with a hand, his tone slightly less strict.” Do you feel feverish?”

“I… I don’t think so.” Judged Kyle after considering.

“Are you in any pain?” He questioned again.

A moment of hesitation – yes or no...?

“A bit.” Admitted quietly the brown-haired man, unconsciously focusing on the dull pain pulsing wherever he turned his attention.

Mairon seemed to study him for a moment, then carelessly swept aside the answer for another question:

"Are you hungry?” He continued to inquire. "And thirsty?”

Kyle froze, uncertain again.

Double interrogation. Were two answers expected of him – different maybe...? Did he was allowed to be – hungry or thirsty...? How long had passed since he had last eaten or drank...? ...Surely he could wait a little longer.

"N-no.” He murmured still staring at the covers.

Then, even without seeing it, he sensed the frown of the Maia, felt the hostility penetrate in the air. It quickly brought him to his senses and reminded him of another rule he absolutely had to respect.

"Yes!” He hastened to say, nearer to the truth. "Y-yes Mâchanâz!"

At this, Mairon responded and – if Kyle first thought he was to pay for his words – he quickly realized that this would not be the case this time, the man reaching for the night table and grabbing a red mug put there.

"You realize that it didn’t went well at all, did you?” Asked the black-haired man again, giving him the cup that he hastened to take.

"Yes, Mâchanâz..." The brown man answered subdued and looking at the cup before Mairon made a circular motion over it and the thing suddenly burned his palms.

“Too hot maybe?” Calmly considered the archaeologist while catching the cup in time and making another wrist gesture to finally pass his fingers over the object, checking the temperature. “But I advise you to be a bit more careful. That and water is all what you will have for the days to come. Here.”

The glass was given to him again and after a hesitation – his hands were already reddening and a burning tingle was running through them – the young man took the handle with his fingertips. The insides and outsides were not so dangerously hot now and Kyle took a sip of soup, reveling in the warm liquid filling his mouth with sweet flavors. His stomach then grunted furiously and, ignoring the stinging pain of his hands, he drank again.

“Slowly.” He heard, then Mairon recommend. "You have not eaten for three days at least.”

And despite the hunger that had awakened harshly in him, screaming at him to fill his desperately empty stomach, Kyle froze with the cup mid-way to his mouth.

_Three days?! How was it possible...?_

"You have to admit that you haven’t searched very much.” Mairon said after observing him for a moment. "If you really had racked your head for at least a bit of information like I told you to, we would not be there."

Before Kyle who was staying quiet, he made an irritated hand gesture before continuing.

"Or what?” He resumed annoyed. “You really thought I would take the trouble to bring you with me just so you could humiliate me in front of him, huh?”

“No! N-no, of course not...!” Kyle answered hastily, his shaking voice coming to a whisper. “Please I… I’m sorry! I promise you I’ll do better... I promised you..."

Mairon groaned dubiously – or unsatisfied perhaps – but he had not yet clearly expressed his refusal or said any disapproving words so Kyle desperately clung to it and ventured for the first time to voice a thought that had come to him since some time already:

"I thought about..." He began to speak in a fretful and rushed pace, his heart pounding each time louder in his ears. “There might be a way to... If you would agree to temporarily give me one of your Dwarven rings... allow me its control, maybe it would be possible to create...”

“Give you one of the Dwarven rings?” Tar-Mairon broke into a mocking laugh, cutting off his babbling. “This much!"

The last notes of Mairon's scoff cascaded over Kyle like so many icy pikes and a terrible silence then followed.

"Tell me," The archaeologist finally commented with ease, a maintained calm only slightly threatening. "Have you – maybe – forgotten to whom you answer...? Need I – _maybe_ – remind you of it...?"

Kyle felt his heart beat harder still in his chest and his breathing followed. Panic threatened to overtook him at any moment and he waited in dread. But it was not a real question so he –

" ** _LOOK AT ME!_** ” Suddenly roared Mairon unexpectedly.

Kyle – stunned by the words that had also went through his skull – felt his head weigh horribly as he anchored his frightened eyes in the blue – green – brown – flame eyes.

"Answer me!” The dark-haired man ordered once again when he looked at him in the face.

“N-no!” The young man let out hurriedly. “I-I belong to you!”

But he was obviously already too late: Mairon was getting up and storming, furious.

"You dirty, arrogant little shit” He spat then advancing on Kyle whose grip tightened on the mug and slumped on himself, thinking – blaming himself – for going too far.

But the archaeologist, about to seize his companion, stepped back suddenly, passing an aggressive hand through his hair.

When the reprimand Kyle expected didn’t come – and the black-haired man started to talk again after long moments where only his furious breathing was heard – he startled violently.

"Know for sure that you will soon regret your stupidity.” The black-haired man declared coolly before continuing less viciously, letting himself fall back onto the bed, looking weary. "Also, what you propose is not possible. My Art and the one you practice are too fundamentally different in their design. You can not copy mine and... I don’t have the necessary elements for the one you use.”

The dark-haired man didn’t move. For a long time, he concentrated on breathing conscientiously, forcing himself to be calm and – ever and ever – repeating to himself that he would surely not be forgotten, that – as long as he did what Mairon said – the Being would not really hurt him. Then, when fingers suddenly came to pull on his hair and a hot mouth bent to cover his, he didn’t understand the gesture at first.

Taken off guard, he went with it, but, after a breath, he unconsciously coupled with Mairon's regular breathing, with the slow movements of his lips – of his tongue. Then the moment of serenity ended as suddenly as it had begun, the archaeologist ending the kiss and getting up; starting to undress.

"In the corner, there is a pile of dirty laundry.” He indicated with a head gesture. "I had to do some work for Belekoroz and I can’t give the clothes to the housekeepers without a risk of spreading crazy rumors so you'll take care of it as soon as you get better."

His eyes instinctively looking towards the indicated place, Kyle tried to ignore the feeling of unease that took him when he saw the pile of red stained clothes; he nodded quickly.

"There is salve in the nightstand drawer for your hands.” Resumed Mairon while removing his pants, already relieved of all else. "Drink the soup before it gets cold and sleep. You must rest.”

So Kyle finished with envy the contents of his mug while Mairon – wearing only a pair of black underwear – laid down next to him on the bed. After applying some balm to his burns, the dark-haired man laid down too and a moment of silence went by, during which he tried to get rid of the fear that still plagued hI’m. In vain.

"What's the matter?” Tar-Mairon ended up asking flatly – and tiredly…?

“P-please...” Whispered the young man after a moment of inner struggle, trying to hold the look of the black haired one. “Please Mâchanâz do not... do not give me to... Mâchanâz...”

The man watched him for endless seconds of anguish and uncertainty and Kyle was unable to detect the slightest hint of emotion, Tar-Mairon was simply impenetrable.

"Sleep Tyelpë.” Finally came the order, ending the discussion.

The archaeologist then looked away and began to hum quietly, pains and concerns becoming lighter by the moment.

Nothing was said after that and, the two men – once asleep – moved in their sleep, the youngest going to snuggle against the torso of the other and the oldest later putting an arm around the waist of his mate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, we finally discover more about Finley and Kyle... but that's not all! There is still more to come for these two ;)!
> 
> Also, sorry for those who ship Morgoth and Sauron. I'm not too fond of this pairing so I don't think that there will be this kind of relationship between them. I hope you will like my fic all the same and if not, thank you for reading so far :).


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